WANTED: the S.O.B. who stole my leather jacket!!!!

You haven't lived in Spain until you've had the chance to visit your friendly neighbourhood “guardia civil” or police station. Yesterday started out as any other day: it was sunny with a bit of a breeze coming off the Mediterranean, I left the house around 10:15, ran some errands and then went to work. My house mate and I got back around 2:30, ate lunch and then took a sizeable siesta. Helena decided to go for a walk before the light completely slipped behind the sierras and I dedicated myself to leafing through Living and Working in Spain in hopes of finding some solution to my car insurance problem. I'd had the tv on for background noise, but found the chatter of talk shows more distracting than consoling and I decided to put on some music instead. I went over to my laptop but it wasn't there, “that's odd, maybe Helena moved it” I thought. So I checked my room, but it wasn't there nor was my laptop case. “Que curioso” as they say here, and that's when that nagging feeling entered the back of my mind; the onset to panic. I hastened to Helena's room to search for her laptop which was also missing. At that moment Helena returned, “Helena, where are our laptops?” I asked still trying to remain on the off shore of panic. Calmly she observed the scene, then announced, “F!*#$ we've been robbed!” In the minutes that followed we madly dashed about the house taking account of what was missing. The gravity of my laptop would hit me later but in that moment what really pissed me off was that the S.O.B. had made off with my FAVORITE leather jacket- you know the one. He'd also stolen some of Helena's clothes and money. Luckily, I'd taken both my camera and my MP3 player with me that day. We immediately phoned out co-worker who lives next door to see if she'd been hit as well- no, we were the only lucky ones. So of course we did as one does in these situations, we trooped down to the police station to make a report. Ironically, I was able to give a much more detailed description of my jacket than my laptop. Unfortunately, I had all the information about my laptop in the case (as any organized person would) so I have no record of the serial number meaning there's little chance of tracking it. Stupid thief though, he (I am quite convinced it was a man because he stole a pair of inexpensive jeans of Helena but left my much more pricey ones) took my laptop but left the cord (neatly folded) with the adapter, who's going to want an American laptop that doesn't work? Maybe he'll figure it out and return it. We came home feeling as victims do- angry, violated and asking “why me?” A bit later some police inspectors stopped by to investigate the scene of the crime. The deduced that the thief had entered through the door, with a key no less, and worn gloves. There was no sign of forced entry anywhere and although one could have shimmied up the balcony it is a much more obvious way to break in during broad day light. Here's where things get a bit fuzzy and I'm not sure I'm catching everything in Spanish. Helena called the apartment owner to tell here what had happened and some how the story came out that she had been robbed once before hand not changed the locks! If I was in the US I might smell a lawsuit, but here in Spain I'm only left with a sour stench. The have an idea who it may be, some guy who had worked in the building previously named Juan Angel from Sorbas, yeah that narrows it down! Gone is all my music, gone are all my pictures (home, friends, family, NY, England, Nicaragua...), gone is my resume, gone are my lesson plans and activities; everything, gone, gone, gone. !Hijo de puta!
The events of the day made for light sleep and violent dreams. I dreamt that someone had killed Juan Miguel, the math teacher I work with, and that a collection of various people through my past and I were on the run, hiding in gypsy caves. When I woke up this morning I couldn't shake the dream and was revisited by that same nagging feeling when I arrived at 8:00 for class but Juan Miguel didn't show up. I called him later to make sure he was alright, and (no, no he wasn't murdered) but he had fallen last night while running and broken his hip, and “was there anyone free to take him to the hospital?” I don't even know what to think any more.