That thing was like my second brain and heart. The machine is replaceable, but the content is seriously priceless. Which is why I'm hating myself for not having backed up my work since October. That was nine fucking months ago. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
This is the collection of incidents that led to this sad day:
My boyfriend, B, lives in the hood. He's a teacher, and therefore teaches where he is needed. And having moved to NYC not too long ago, his job and his unfamiliarity with the city landed him smack in the middle of Brownsville, two train stops away from where they filmed 'Brooklyn's Finest.' You know - the movie about the cops and drug dealers murdering each other. Yeah. That's two blocks away.
So I spend a portion of my time in the hood because B is there - and mostly everything seems okay because we have good neighbors, and B's apartment is part of a new section of housing on a one-sided, quiet street. But hood rats have legs, and they are around during the day. And they watch you, and wait. Or they're bored and decide to use any apartment they can slide their little greasy asses into, as a free-for-all candy store. Fucking bastards.
I never take naps in the middle of the day - but I've been working so many cross-border hours with China that I finally had to lie down this afternoon.
B never comes back for lunch in the middle of the day, and he just happened to today.
Those rat bastards must of seen him leaving after lunch and figured no one was in the apartment.
Except I was. Dead asleep. IN the bedroom, while they snuck happily around and swiped my baby *tear* because I had left it sitting in the living room in all its silver glory. I wonder if they saw me lying in the dark. If they did, I hope it gave them a jolt, sending them scurrying out the back door with their tails between their legs, their heart skipping a beat. With my laptop in hand, but nevertheless, scared.
I won't even tell you how many policemen and women came storming into my apartment, more curious about my decor than the crime, more suspicious of B than the actual thief.
What a fucking day. Lesson learned.
Move forward. Make more memories. Take more pictures. Re-do a little bit of what was lost, and BACK IT UP PEOPLE. Losing the computer itself hurt. But losing all the memories and work was absolutely devastating.