No, actually, I was corrected by the friendly police officers who responded to my 911 call. I was burggled. (Did I even spell that right?) Robbed implies that I was forced at gunpoint or something.
What happened was this: I came home from work, as usual, around 5:45PM. Stayed in my car listening to the end of a tune, then unlocked the two locks on my front door - one doorknob, one deadbolt. Something was strange...a small electronic keyboard was setting in the middle of my living room floor and I assumed my married daughter - the one with a key to my house - had gotten it out of the place where it is kept, an upper shelf in my bedroom closet. In the miliseconds this took to register, I began to wonder why she would want it, or why she would leave it where it was. Then, I noticed the back slider was wide open, as well as a window on the second story.
Oh...my...god! Stuff was really gone. A person or persons unknown had entered from an upper story window (must have needed a ladder) and ransacked my house. Further inspection revealed the worst: all electronics gone, save for an older VCR and the TV's, probably too heavy to carry. My computer was tossed, but left. Scanner, printer, speakers, all gone, cables dangling like forlorn umbilical cords. The back deck slider left wide open, but the cat - by some miracle - had not escaped or been hurt. My mattress had been tipped, all my dresser drawers pulled out and turned upside-down. My closet ransacked. My daughter's room same deal.
Probably most upsetting of all was my jewlery box.
Folks, I don't own much nice stuff. A few pieces of mostly sentimental value, but it ain't the crown jewels. I had some things belonging to my mother, a few cherished gifts which cannot be replaced, an engagement diamond which meant something at one long-ago time, two Valentine candies given to me by a friend who is gone now, a pair or two of fairly valuable earrings.... But that little velvet box contained the material treasures of my life. A seashell from a special trip to the ocean, theater ticket stubs, a cocktail napkin from an obscure first date... None of this can be replaced by my homeowners insurance.
I feel violated and angry. Now that the police have left, fingerprint dust all over my home, I am left with the disrupted shards of what "they" did. With the windows and doors now securely locked on this hot summer night, I swear I can smell "them". The musky goat-like odor of young males. I can't sleep in my bed which they touched.
I know, I know. This could have been much worse and in many ways, I am lucky. I wasn't home, wasn't harmed, they didn't smash and break...only took. I'm sorry to complain, but I've been robbled (sorry, Burggled) of my special things. I hate the bastards that did this. A DVD player is easy to replace, the mementoes of my life are gone forever.
Thanks for listening.