Against My Better Judgement

My kids have gone to the neighbor's house to play. I actually have some time to do whatever I want. The irony is that I can't, because I once again put my size 8 1/2 foot in my ever so accommodating mouth.

Let me preface this by saying, I understand we all have our thing. I totally get the thrill of the hunt. I mean for you it might be Fendi purses, or stickers for your scrapbook, or whatever. Since I have been known to fly to the store in various states of undress just to get free TP or toothpaste, I can't exactly throw stones.

And yet, I don't understand garage sale people. I have tried, oh yes, I have. But it is too much gambling for me. I want to know what the deal is before I will leave my house and trek across the town. Sure you MIGHT find an ugly Elvis watercolor that just happens to be covering a priceless original copy of the Declaration of Independence, or, more likely, you may not. It's all UNK. I just don't have the patience for you-never-know. Plus the whole haggling thing is just not part of my genetic make-up. So I avoid garage sales on principle.

As far as having one, well hubs and I tried it once. We made a couple hundred dollars. We sold all the movies he had acquired and the vacuum I had acquired. Said vacuum was just an innocent by-stander I had been using to clean out the car, but in the heat of the moment Hubs sold it for $15. "It was old," he said, "and not very good." Actually I'd had it a year and it worked just peachy. Which is why after 15 years I still remind him about the vacuum he sold for $15, and then had to replace for $250. Not that I'm bitter or anything. Moving on.

Luckily Hubs learned the fine art of tax deductible donations and voila! No more garage sales for us! It all goes to the Goodwill. I do have to photography and inventory everything, but that's it. No setting up, taking down, counting change, or buying new vacuums. It's almost painless.

So why am I wasting my precious free time getting ready for a crummy sale this weekend? Absolutely, no freakin' idea! The neighbor asked and before I could say "HELL NO!" I heard myself saying "sure." I blame it on residual cleaning fumes in my house, I swear they've pickled my brain. So pray for me this weekend as I prepare to pay through the teeth to get people to take my junk. What the heck, maybe it's time for a new vacuum.