After much unrest and questioning of my sanity, I have found that there is in fact valid reasoning as to what has bean stirring up chaos in the Cabochon. Let me pick back up where I last left off.
Upon finding my door cracked open, when returning from I’Fratelli's, Tonya and I decided to take some extensive precautions to secure our apartment. We vowed to not spend the night alone in the apartment and started using special locks on the doors. Everything was fine. For a while. Then, the bedlam began again.
Exactly two weeks following the first break in, there was another occurrence. I returned to my casa after dinner with friends and as soon as I opened the door I knew something was not right. Tonya was out of town for the weekend, so I knew the state I had left the apartment in before leaving for dinner. A decorative vase full of sticks had been knocked over into the living room floor (yes, we have a vase full of sticks), definitely not how I had left them. I instantly began a sweep over of the apartment. Taking note of anything out of place. My balcony door, open. The storage unit door on my balcony, open. Curious. I don’t call the police. Partially, because it made me feel better to block out reality as apposed to assuming the worst. To call the police, to start to freak out, would be admission to the fact that someone was entering into my home uninvited, and I was just not ready to accept that as truth. But this is how I cope. So calmly, I call Mikey, my friend who is a police officer, and my mother. They were skeptical, because of my lack of urgency I suppose. They told me to leave the apartment, and we would figure it out. Not much sleep happened that night. My mind raced from side to side with thoughts of justifiable possibilities. I HAD to figure this out. I stayed with friends and family until Tonya returned, and then we decided it was time, for a stakeout.
Gene and Mikey were more than happy to assist. I readily handed over my apartment keys to my two dearest manly friends for “Operation Stakeout.” Day one passed of the investigation, nothing. Day two, bagel. I came home from work to find my boys disappointed. They had hopes of a beat down taking place, but nothing ever matriculated. I think the stakeout must have felt like waiting for rain in a drought. Frustrating. I wasn’t there, so I don’t really know, but I am pretty sure in the end, it just gave Mikey and Gene a fantastic opportunity to muck around and drink on my balcony all day long. So in my parallel disappointment, I joined them. We collectively knocked back some beer and puffed on cigars in hopes that, I was just insane, and there was nothing to fear.
Answers. Later that evening I talked to Tonya on the phone. She had received a voicemail from the Cabochon office earlier that day. They had left her a message saying that they were having trouble getting into our apartment to show it to future tenants. Wait… WHAT? (We are not moving.) Tonya called them back, and apparently they thought we had put in a notice to move and had been showing our apartment to people! Really? After dealing with all of the frustration of comprehending the stupidity of our apartment office staff, I finally felt, RELIEF. I was not crazy. I have in fact, NOT seen too many scary movies. Someone was entering my home uninvited, they just didn’t know it. So many weeks of mayhem explained in one simple phone call. Just another day in the life of Penny Baker ; )
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