Damn. Someone broke into my Miata. I *knew* I shouldn't have locked the doors, since you can break into the car with a pair of scissors. Damn. Though, I guess I should be grateful. They didn't take much, just a checkbook from an account that's been closed since I graduated, a crappy Broadway compilation CD that I couldn't pawn off at Empire Records, and my ex boyfriend's leather jacket. I think that's the thing that bothers me the most. It still has his smell. That and it's gonna cost a pretty penny to get the roof fixed. And today seemed to be such a nice day . . .