Last February, someone else stole it. From the street where I live. A few days later, longer than the previous time, police recovered it (in NE Portland).
After that second time, I finally started to use the Club my parents had sent me after that first theft. I hadn't wanted to, but losing my car because of assholes and having to spend hundreds of dollars to then get it back is difficult for both me and my budget (though my parents have helped with some of the costs of all this). So the car is parked and as secured as I can get it.
And I'm still expecting to wake up some morning and find that it's gone.
If that happened, a third frickin' time, that would start to feel like (to quote the novel Goldfinger) "enemy action." It would be a moment of "Oh you have GOT to be kidding me."
It means I probably haven't gotten over the loss, even the temporary loss, of the car, and the violation of the thefts. It frustrates me that I sometimes can't relax about it. To analyze the situation, this second theft and recovery happened not long before, well, you know, PANDEMIC, which is another stressor. I may not have had time to get over what happened before something really big started to happen, and is still happening. It's frustrating, and I wanted to admit it's frustrating.
I look at this car a lot during quarantine; it's right outside the front window. I've driven it, of course, but while wondering if I should put the Club on even when I'm stopped somewhere during an errand. (Yes, I put it on when I was at the Oregon Coast motel last month. If some jackass stole it from the Coast, I'd've been even more deeply screwed.) I'm relieved that it's there, but I'm not really relieved as much as I'd hoped.
Again, a small complaint while literally tens of thousands of people who were alive in February are dead now, due to COVID-19. Where the father of someone I've followed online for nearly 15 years has died of the virus. Where a friend had the virus and, thank everything, recovered from it, but whoa it sucked for my friend. Still. Noted for the record.
Maybe I'll get over this. I hope so. I want to.