A slipped finger

I think we need a lifetime cap on the number of times a person can be robbed in their lives. This time they got into our storage space up the road. They didn’t take much, my silverware chest and the good silverware in there, maybe some tools.
The frustrating thing is that as we prioritize our money, there is just no place to put a replacement silverware chest and silverware. Even if our budget were bigger I could never justify it in my head, we just don’t need it, not at all. Fancy dinner parties are going to be extremely few and very far apart in the coming years and the money would be better spent on goat medicine or sparkle shoes.
I’m trying to look on the bright side of this. They didn’t find and take the china, it was my mother’s and it would kill me to lose it. I didn’t lose something I very much need, like in 2011 when someone broke into the house and stole my laptop (among other things). It’s just silverware, in the scheme of things it’s not a big deal. So why am I crying about it?
The thing that bothers me the most is that I want to punch the fuck out of their faces.