Yesterday I did something that I probably shouldn't have done.  I sold my guitar to a pawn shop . . . for $20.  My friend was going to buy it, but she couldn't commit to a time to actually come see it, and my phone bill was due, so I took the guitar to a pawn shop.  I was going to sell my clarinet too, but the first pawn shop said they wouldn't buy a clarinet.  Then, I thought that maybe the next pawn shop would buy my clarinet and surely for more than $30.  So, I sold the guitar for $20 (thinking I could sell the clarinet too to get enough for my phone bill). 

So, I drove down to the second pawn shop.  There were tons of people there.  So, I had to wait in line, and as I waited, I started thinking about how long I had owned the clarinet I had in my hand.  Then I started thinking about all the time it took to get good at it, and then about the countless band concerts, marching band practices, competitions, and the friends I'd made because, basically, of my clarinet.  I have tons of friends simply from being in band through high school.  I moved up one space in the line, and my eyes started to tear up.  Was I really going to sell this instrument that I loved so much and that gave me so many memories?  Despite me getting upset and asking myself this question, I stayed in line until it was my turn at the counter.

I told the pawn shop man that we had all the corks replaced about a year ago and the music place said that it was worth about $150 then.  He looked over my beloved instrument (obviously not understanding the sentimental value I had placed in it).  He punched some information into his computer and told me, "Well, I could give you $15 for it."  I tried very hard to not let my jaw drop, but I'm sure that my eyes got big as I grabbed my clarinet back over the counter and said, "Well there's no way I can let it go for only $15."  He then proceeded to tell me that they don't do much with clarinets (even though I could see two of them on the shelf with price tags on them).  I walked out of the pawn shop and immediately started crying.

How was I going to pay for my $50 phone bill with only $20?  I kept thinking to myself how stupid it was of me to let my guitar go for so little.  Now there was no point of me selling the guitar . . . I couldn't pay the bill anyway.  So, after a phone call to my mom and a lot of sitting in my car crying and staring at my check register, I calmed down and drove back to campus.  I had to change my phone plan back to prepaid quickly before Boost tried to take the non-existent $50 out of my account.  So, now I have about $8 on my phone and I have to pay 10 cents for every message I send and receive and 10 cents for every minute of talk time.

Needless to say, I didn't have a very good day.  The silver lining is that there's a bigger chance of the rest of my week being better.

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