An Open Letter to the Jerky Person(s?) Who Tried To Break Into My House Tonight

Dear Criminal(s),
Listen. I get it. You need drug money or your kids are starving or your gang initiation called for it, or you are bored. You already kicked in my front door and stole all my jewelry a couple months back. Seriously, maybe you were just coming back for the television, but it's not really that good. Wouldn't you prefer a flat screen? My DVD player isn't all that slick-- it plays VHS as well, because I'm old school like that. But you could have had it if you'd just asked.
And now, you've broken my french doors as well.... Not to mention the damage you or one of your hoodlum friends did taking out my mailbox a month or two ago. Maybe you think the mailbox thing was a favor, but it was really nice that Jeff put it up for me a couple years ago. He tried really hard. He really did.
But do you know the worst thing? I hate that I don't feel safe in my own house. If you needed food, I would have fed you. If you needed money, I don't have that much, but you could have had everything I made at the Valley Lutheran Church Craft Fair this weekend. But now, not only do I have to call the door guys to replace my doors, I'll have to pay for those doors out of pocket because the folks at Allstate will take their sweet time with my claim. What's more, I'll have to have my contractor come over and paint the new doors. This is a real drag, because the last time they did, the doors were off for so long that I got that awful lizard in my house, and this time there won't be someone to catch the lizard's brother for me. My housing insurance fees SKYROCKETED this year, and thank goodness I've already paid the premium through October 2010, but you can bet I'll get another virtual middle finger when I open the bill a year from now.
My jewelry is plastic now. I don't have that old SLR I loved so much anymore-- you know, the one I took the beautiful pictures of Mikolaj Gladun and the River Liffey with? Digital just doesn't have the same soul. I guess you guys just thought you'd try to get in again before my brother could finish putting up the fencing he's been working on constantly. The pipe fence is beautiful, but even with the wire, you probably would have found a way in.
I'd also like to discuss with you the expense I'll now face because my family and friends will not stop harassing me until I get a big, scary dog. Can I be honest? I hate mean dogs more than you do. They only stop you (maybe) from breaking in my house. I will have to be the one scooping poop. I will be the one who will have to pull the ticks off of them. I am the one who will have to take a second job, not to replace the things you stole or to make repairs to my house or even to get all that horrible, so-called-decorative ironwork that will take away from my beautiful windows and doors that are too easy for you to get in. Oh no. I'm going to have to scrimp and save and never set foot in Anthropologie's sale section again, because I'll be paying for Parvo shots and dislocated hips. I am the one who will have to deal with doggie breath and shedding and did I mention the poop?!
Plus also, my friends aren't too happy with you either. I was supposed to go to a movie with them tonight, and I'm pretty sure they didn't appreciate me having to ditch them to deal with you. They told me to tell you they hate your stinkin' guts (actually, this is not true, but they were pretty cheesed that I had to ruin our plans to go meet up with the sheriff). Well, better you than me.
I actually don't hate you, and I'm certainly glad I don't have to judge you. I'm really a pretty nice, reasonable, forgiving person. I don't know if that matters to you or not, but you might notice all the pictures of Jesus I have in my house the next time you B&E. He loves you, which you may have forgotten. I'm trying to love you too, but could you please give it a rest? I already had a head cold. I'll bet you'll feel really bad if it turns out to be H1N1 and I die. My great-grandmother actually died of swine flu when my grandfather was just a baby. But anyway, like I was saying, this has been a hard enough year without your little visits. The recession has gotten to us all, and business is down. We're in the process of restructuring some things in the business, and I'm sure you can imagine it's stressful. You know from casing my house that I'm never at home. I don't have a lot of time to do things because there are a lot of people who need me, and I love them, and they've got it worse than I do, and I'm out trying to lessen their suffering. And it's super hard for me to ask for help, because I'm more comfortable with the giving end of things. Anyway, this really isn't a good time to break into my house, or to take out another mailbox or set fire to my yard or to harass my family, or whatever it is you plan on doing next. If you're feeling mischievous, could you just toilet paper the house instead? I don't even think that would trip the alarm, which should also save you some embarrassment and consternation.
Anyway, thanks, I guess, for not doing more damage. I'm estimating it'll only be about two grand this time, which really is better than before. But please, give me a break. I'm kind of a lonely girl and I don't always have someone to protect me, and I'm sure my little brother is getting tired of the job. And I'm not so much in the looks department, so I think it would be nice if my hair were not to turn prematurely grey and for my skin to stay wrinkle-free just a bit longer. Please don't ruin my chances, because my social life has taken a beating recently.
That's all, I guess. Thanks for listening. I hope things get better for you soon and that you don't feel like you have to steal from me or anyone else anymore. And seriously, next time, just knock and let me give you some cookies (or at least a Fiber One Bar) and my extra copy of "Labyrinth" or "Dirty Dancing." It's gotta be worth something on the black market.
Your Intended Victim and Weary Friend,
Rachel