"We live in a fallen world"

The big question for everyone today at work:  Where do you live?  Implied, tell me you live in a "bad" area away from me, so I can feel safe. 

Someone proudly told me no one would rob her house, because she got this little plastic thing you put in the window so they can't open it.  [head in hands]  My door was kicked in.   How would a little plastic thing in the window protect me, when they went after the door. 

Kids, here's the cold hard truth:  if a bad guy wants in, he's getting in.  That's why smart people have panic rooms.  You can turn your house into a fortress, and they'll break in through the garage, or wait for you to come home and pull a gun on you when you're unlocking the door. 

How do you react, that's the big question. 

Ron wanted to get burglar bars.  I said no.  A lot of people die in house fires, because the bars that keep them out, keep you in.  I've seen the fire-"safe" ones and they still look dangerous.  No thanks. 

I'd rather get robbed again than burn alive.  [shudder] 

I don't want an alarm system.  The police take forever to come out.  What's the point? 

Obviously, with mental illness, brain damage, and alcoholism, we won't be buying a gun - and if someone breaks in when we're gone (which they would, because they waited until we left), they'll steal it and do horrible things with that gun. 

We can be diligent.  Which we are.  You notice I never talk about making deposits or getting paid, until after the fact.  If I even mention it at all. 

Frankly speaking, we're not woth the trouble.  And that's what I tell everyone when I'm talking about the theft - we didn't have anything they wanted except one computer.  My TV is so old and small, even a thief didn't want it - and I laugh.  We don't have guns, money, or jewelry.  We have no assets! 

So, the same gossip that had Ron and I making big bucks while riding public transit (that's the first to go if we ever do get big bucks), will also have us so poor even the burglars didn't want our s*(t.  I always figured, anyone who can see can see we're poor. 

We can't exactly run around saying "we're poor" all the time because then it would look like we were hiding something.  I carry a $10 backpack.  Ron wears $10 pants, mine cost $17, if I'm not wearing my $6-even-in-the-fat-lady-size sweats.  [snerk]  I just yank my hair back in a ponytail.  About the only thing you can say is that my hair is real, and a lot of ladies at work like it, even yanked back in the ponytail. 

I doubt anyone's going to rob me and steal my hair, though. 

I'm still thanking God they didn't hurt the evangelism stuff (Bibles, signs, tracts and stuff) the cats, or any part of the house beside the door.