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The police found our car. The San Mateo police. We had to drive all the way across the bridge to pick it up tonight. Forty friggin' minutes each way. The rear license plate is gone, so that means an annoying trip to the DMV, and the car absolutely reeks of cigarettes (Newports, specifically, as they kindly left their empty pack in the car, along with a metric ton of other miscellaneous garbage). Yet the cops were strangely uninterested in recovering DNA evidence from the cigarette butts left in the ashtray...

There was a spiral-bound notebook in the passenger seat, with nothing written on any of the pages, but written in the inside front cover were these words: "Have you thought enough about how your present actions will influence your next life?" Words I wish the thieves had lived by.

But, you know, it's back, and it's drivable, and the long drive back with the windows down mostly aired it out. So we'll count this as a win.

The most upsetting thing? The thing that pissed me off the most, and felt the most like a violation?

They changed all my radio pre-sets.

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