Perhaps redaction is just in the air. At work today, a girl brought her pet capuchin to her audition, a charming three year-old named Chanel who promptly attacked the Wite-Out tape; when she left, the office looked like we'd just held a ticker tape parade. It won't be pretty to clean up, but I do appreciate the monkey's joie de vivre in disassembling our instruments of it-never-happened. And then, driving home, NPR was talking about yard sales, and seller's remorse, and of course it was impossible then not to summon something I regretted putting on the block. I've definitely stood in pawn shops with my violin before, just because it was my version of trying to be existential. I think I wanted to have some watershed moment where I gripped its neck and whispered goodbye, but the offer was always such an insult that it ruined the moment. Haven't had a garage sale in awhile, and not sure which item's value I'd debate at the last minute...What about you?