Is this real life? I was at work when my pants' pocket started vibrating and wouldn't stop. I don't take personal calls at work and I only occasionally check text messages while on break. My husband had called 3 times. I started to text him back when my work radio kicked on with the cashier telling me I had a call. At this point, I begin panicking because no one calls me in the middle of the day for any good reason and not a single person had ever called me at work before. It's my husband, telling me our house alarm system is going off (he gets the first call because I don't get lunch breaks or personal hours). It's the back door that set it off and although it's a VERY windy day, that door was locked. I know because I'm the one that locked it after the dogs went outside this morning. Unfortunately, my husband is several hours away today. Which means the alarm is going off with the dogs in the house and I'm the one who gets to go check it out. Especially panic-inducing because less than a year ago when we moved in, the house got broken into and the police said they would likely be back. My husband tells me I have to leave work immediately and get home. I hang up the phone and run to find my manager, tell her I have to leave early because my alarm's going off at home and she tells me to be careful.
So I break some sort of record running down from the upper level of the stock room to clock out and throw myself into my little car, depress the parking break and try not to run into potential customers walking into the store. I speed all the way home (which I never do...ever). Once I get to my neighborhood, I start to drive a little less like a crazy person and a little more like a normal human because 1. there are speed humps that would take out my car and 2. my neighborhood is one way in/one way out so if someone looks suspicious I can at least get a license plate number. I get to my street and see a truck with a camper shell sitting, open, in front of my house and I start noticing things like make, model, license plate, there are people inside, what they look like, etc. I park with a little less finesse than I usually do in my driveway and notice the truck hasn't moved.
Right about then I get another call from my husband. APPARENTLY there was supposed to be a home inspection today. Our property management company we rent from is supposed to give us 24 hours minimum advance notice before entering the house. Their receptionist (who is now #1 on my sh*t list) had transposed the numbers when calling to inform my husband and so left a message on someone else's phone. The home inspector, not knowing any of this, had hopped our fence to our backyard and opened the back door with the key given to them by the property management company. (They couldn't get in the front because after the break-in, we installed a storm door they don't have the key to and he had to hop the gate because we put a padlock on it they also don't have a key to.) I turn off the alarm and let the inspectors in and then start attempting to get my dogs calmed down because they were both super freaked out.
So for Valentine's Day, I got a headache and haven't even consumed any alcohol to get it.