Jul. 1st, 2016

I went to sleep a little past midnight on 7/1. I changed into my pajama pants and left my shorts on the dresser outside of my room. My wallet was inside my shorts. It is part of a kitchen, but is behind a screen. I usually do not leave my wallet outside of my room, but I was tired, and forgot to take it out. When I woke up at 5:30 am or so, I found my shorts on top of the dresser, with some other disheveled clothes, and a wallet inside, but all the cash from the wallet was gone. Credit cards were there, even the receipts from the ATM deposit of a check for 10:13 pm the night before. But the cash, my $2,500 that I wanted to deposit through a teller (and that I spent two weeks of working for), was all gone...

The doors are not locked in my apartment, only the rooms with roommates are. Three roommates of mine were there that night. Ben, a young Harvard graduate, with a goal of going to Law School next year, was in his room. A lady cell biologist Umji, also from Harvard, said she came home at 2 am. And our monk also was there late at night, and he left at 5:15 am to go Philadelphia. Since the doors are never locked, there possibly might be others...

But how would a perpetrator know to go to my dresser, and look for a wallet in one of the pockets, and to do it on the very day when I had so much cash in the wallet, the same wallet that is usually within reach of my body (leaving it outside is very unusual for me, it was an irregular thing for me to do).

The door to the yard in our kitchen is always open, even at night, but who would dare come from outside, look into the kitchen, go behind the screen to my dresser, take out the wallet, take the cash, and put back the wallet into the shorts?

Strange. Disturbing. Should I start locking the doors?

How does a loss like that affect me?

First, I try to remember all my steps, and search everything around me in hopes of finding it, the nice chunk of twenties and fifteen hundreds. It is a thick pile put together, and is not easily lost in between the pages of a book.

Second, I try to remember all the moments that I was separated from the wallet, and to see who was where then and there.

Third, I start to suspect. It really poisons my mind as I talk to my roomies, while holding back my suspicion.

So, I shall go through all the steps again later. Now I hve to go and fulfill my obligations to the myself, and to the words uttered by me.

The Eustis Vortex has shown its wicked side once again.


7/4

Three days have passed, and no clues have emerged.

Dod is begging me to forget about it, learn to never be separate from the wallet, and not carry that much cash with me anymore.

Cash is king, yet it almost has no trace.  I start to appreciate my customers who paid me in checks.

I am still bewildered as to the perpetrator.

1. I went to sleep a little past midnight.

2. Tajay came home a little before 1 am, and saw no one.

3. Umji came home around 2 am, and cooked and used the bathroom and saw no one.

4. Tajay got up at 5 am, and saw no one.

5. I got up at 5:30 am and saw no one.

I was separated from my wallet from past midnight to 5:30 am.

During that time, risking someone waking up, a perpetrator had to go behind my screen, next to my door, pat around my clothes, find a wallet inside my shorts, pull out all the money, and put back the wallet into shorts, and leave them lying around.  The only reason he(or she) can be succesful, is that I did the unusual thing of not having my wallet next to me.

Also, it is nice of a perpetrator to not take the wallet, and hide it somewhere, separating me from all my ids, and credit cards, but to actually take his/her time to put it all back.  Someone had to be very confident.  Almost professional.  And calm.

I was but a door away. Tajay and Umji were up and around at odd times.  Ben was also around.

Ben is new here.  Does he snoop around at random times? On a regular basis? Who knows.  I only know that he went to Harvard, concentrated on Borges, plays sax, and studies digital security.  He is 24 (25?), and is planning to go to Law School next year.

I did scare him off a bit yesterdat, at around 8 am, as I came into the kitchen from the yard, as he was washing dishes in the sink.  He was startled to see me, and visibly shook for a moment, but soon recovered.  "You startled me!" he said.  Sunny Sunday morning, birds singing.  Why be startled and afraid?  Is there an intense inner life, unknown to the outsiders that is going on in there, inside him?

Or is it all my fantasies?

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nnovgorod

December 2016

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