This happens every summer: I notice a distinct lack of funds and I start scouring the depths of my closets for stuff I can sell. In the case of this year, we’re also trying to get rid of decades worth of stuff that has been sitting in boxes in our garage since Ash’s father stopped paying for the storage area. When he moved across the country, most of their family’s old possessions had been stored and left behind. We ended up with everything he didn’t take or throw out and have been, over the years, chipping away at it.
So I have a bunch of antiques that a woman came out to look at yesterday. She only bought five items but I made a decent amount off of them. Some things went on Craigslist. Some friends at work bought a handful of vinyl records. I am selling things on Ebay and they’re really moving. It has put me in this frame of mind that almost anything – so long as it isn’t busted – has a resale value. So when this kids’ consignment store wouldn’t take my pack ‘n’ play, I got kind of mad. It’s all a racket. They give you a fraction of the value and resell it for way more. Meanwhile, these items have a lot of life left in them but serve no further purpose for me. I feel like there’s a certain amount of injustice here.
When I stop to think about it, I do have way too much junk. I tend to hold onto things for sentimental value but I also realize there must be a line drawn somewhere. There’s only so many times I am going to read a book. I should get rid of them. Some things from my childhood that I have kept all these years will probably stick around. I really only have a few small boxes of childhood mementos. But I have to get into that mode of clearing out before I will really do anything about it. But man, stuff can pile up so quickly. Our closets become packed full of things we look at once or twice a year and what for? We, as humans, are just pack rats. We buy and buy and store and then it gets to a ridiculous point.
I feel really good, though, about moving so much of this out of my house. It also keeps me really busy, which I kind of like. Half the time I’m running around like crazy but I most definitely don’t feel like I’m just sitting around wasting time, which is what ends up happening if I have things to do but nothing pushing me to finish them. Like, say, cleaning. I sort of relish in the frantic nature of the selling process. I suppose if I kept this up, eventually I’d be down to just own the basics, the essentials. And I think my life would be a lot simpler then.