The gentleman burglar

So, a couple days ago, we were burgled. My partner sent me an email to work and said "Do you have an idea where my wallet and my bag is?" And I thought, how weird, he always puts them in the same place.

So, they'd vanished out of the house. Nothing else was disturbed. No traces. No noises. No broken anythings.

So he cancelled all the cards and makes do with whatever cash I had at that point so he could buy food at work. Then we get a message from the police (like a postcard). He calls them - it emerges his wallet and "man bag" (containing a Molekskine notebook, pens, assorted riff-raff and his expensive super-light glasses) were found in the park behind the house and handed in to the police station.

So the coppers arrived yesterday and we had a walk around the house for some security advice (in short: keep everything locked constantly and out of sight from the windows), and I'm currently in talks with a number of tradespeople to fit some big-ass searchlights in the garden and front (sorry, Mr Fox). Intruder alerts, the works.

The weirdest thing is - and that feels utterly bizarre - is that they must have done that when I was/we were asleep in the house. And the idea of a stranger just walking into my house is one that's not quite easy to stomach. I'm the type who flies into a rage and seriously injures somebody breaking into my house.

But now, the guy (or guys) is just a ghost, a weird type of invisible/unfeelable haunting.

I'm still getting those big lights. Next time might be worse. And the letterbox gets closed up and we'll get one fixed from the outside.

Funny, also, how I've never known anybody in Germany who was burgled, but almost all of my friends in the UK have such experiences. Crazy.

In funny news (kind of), dude just sent me an image to work. He DOES know how my mind works.

And in positive news, looks like I'll be visiting a friend in Ottawa over my birthday.

That's when Odin walks in

Thanks guys for all the great comments. I'll respond, too, but first I have to tell you about the weird little thing that happened to me today.

Today, I went into the city center with my partner (not London, I can only take so much of the Big Smoke during my off time) and we ended up in one of the various coffee shops for breakfast. While we were chatting away about charity and some article's I've recently read about development, charity and the so-called Third World, my reality shifted.

That was such a weird moment there. Like reality was tilting sideways. The closest I can compare it to was an effect in a movie. Something weird going on about resolution and camera angle. Suddenly, reality was not what it had been. I was at the same time strangely hyper-aware of myself and reality was blurred. Less real. (I was neither drunk, on drugs, and very rarely pass out, although it has happened once on a commuter train when I got stuck with no oxygen and without breakfast for half an hour.)

It felt like a brush with an alternate reality, like some other world got very close in that moment. Like something outrageous could happen. Like I could just get up, leave my body sitting and chatting there and go somewhere else. If I were writing paranormal, I'd expect something weird to happen there, like, you know, Odin walking into the coffee shop, telling me something about the end of the world and Valhalla... or whatever. (Knowing my luck, it would probably be Loki, anyway. Not that I'm saying Odin is a nice guy.)

Anyway, for a moment I got the whole Buddhist thing about everything being an illusion. I really got it. Somehow I think writers are better equipped to deal with this particular illusion.

Then everything went back to "normal".

Yeah, my sanity is a tenuous thing.