And then there were none...

It's Spring Break which can only mean one thing... kids at the office!!! I hope I don't have a stroke this week. Not that my kids are stressful. Oh no, not my kids. But the stress of work and the stress of bickering kids can be a volatile mix. At least I don't have to deal with school pick-ups this week. 

And now to the real reason for this post and the inspiration catastrophe behind choosing a title that relates to what's written.

As of Saturday, I no longer own a guitar. Not one. I went from 3 to 0 in the span of 5 hours. 

Last week I posted about the yard sale. I contemplated taking all 3 guitars, sell one, then take the rest home. I took all three. The sale started at 6 AM. Misty was there, I was at home with the kids (ie. asleep). Around 8:00 the kids and I went to help out and take her breakfast. When I walked in Misty had this wierd smile on her face. I immediately noticed my Washburn sitting next to her. I looked around, it was alone. She sold two of my guitars. 

"I got full price for both," she said. Apparently the look on my face was not pleasant. She swore she was not going to sell the remaining guitar. 

There was another seller there selling a couple of guitars. He had been watching the Washburn since I brought it in Friday night. He had tried to get Misty to sell it to him all Saturday morning. When I got there he started working on me. I was strong.

Then his daughter broke out the "puppy dog face." I sold it. I sold my last remaining guitar.

In one morning I lost my first guitar, my first "performing" (nto sure you can call what I do performing) guitar, and my "pick it up and play it at night" guitar.

I no longer own a guitar.

Last night I was on the computer looking at song chords. I turned around to get my electric and play a few.....

I'm having a little separation anxiety.

I do still have a guitar. That is to say, I have possession of a guitar. It sits in my closet. I play it every Wednesday nght and Sunday morning. But I know it's not mine. If my dad decides he wants it back. I will be without.

For now I have a guitar. I can play it when I want. I can't play at night when everyone is asleep. I have to dig it out of it's case every time musical inspiration hits me. But for now I still have a guitar.

That's all that really matters... well, that and the almost $600 we made at the yard sale!