We live on the top floor of a three-story building. Not having to listen to people clomp above you is really a beautiful thing, and I can only imagine how much better it will be once we're trying to keep Barnabas asleep. We also have a nice view -- well, not that nice, but it's better than those on the first or second floors. There are a few other benefits, but at the moment, I can't think of any.
Why, you ask? It's because my body is so sore and I'm so exhausted from carrying junk up and down those stairs I can hardly think straight. I started to haul things down on Thursday night and continued Friday and Saturday morning. I wasn't carrying anything too heavy (the worst was this secretary Kristen bought from Ikea a decade ago), but it was the frequency that killed me. Up and down, down and up.
But it was all worth it.
We set things up in the back courtyard of our building and also in our garage. The area was full of all the things that we no longer wanted and were sure that other were. Bookshelves, clothes, that heavy secretary, curtains, odd computer junk (a printer, a scanner), a shredder... you name it. And, amazingly, it nearly all sold. By the time I carried what little remained back up to the apartment, down into our storage locker, or (best of all) out to the garbage, we had racked up $382 in sales. Amazingly, that was without selling our biggest ticket item, the boomerang coffee table (which we were hoping to get $125 for). We'll put it up on Craig's list this week, and if you add that in, our sales should top $500.
That's at least 3 days worth of diapers, no?
Not to toot my own horn, but I really worked for a lot of that money. I delivered the secretary to a family a few blocks away. I got a nasty case of sunburn on my neck. I nearly dehydrated myself. I forced Kristen to go upstairs and sleep for a bit, so I went solo for a couple of hours. And, worst of all, I had to deliver some things to an older woman's apartment a couple of blocks away. With the woman in tow. Who could only walk 4 steps at a time before she stopped and began making conversation.
"How old are you?"
"Do you travel a lot?"
"Did I tell you about my young boyfriend?"
"My brother lives in Morton Grove. Have you ever been to Morton Grove?"
This woman -- Faye was her name -- also told me all about her second husband (from Holland), her friend who lives outside of Las Vegas, and her refusal to fly in planes. It wouldn't have been so bad if not for three things: 1) she had only about 5 teeth in her entire mouth and it was very distracting watching her; 2) her bra was unattached at the back, with the various fasteners flying out the side of her house dress (I'm not sure how this was effecting in its bra-like duties); and 3) those questions and comments were repeated about 400,000 times.
What should've been a 5-minute walk to deliver the goods lasted about 30. We all had a good laugh (at my expense), but by that time, it was already 1:30 and I couldn't even muster the energy to complain.
Either way... $382, people! That's a lot of cash! Worth every hassle!
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2 comments:
Congratulations on the success of your sale! You know the boomerang table didn't sell because the cat wasn't included in the price. Garage sales seem to attract some real weirdos. That's what you get for advertising your address all around town. But at least you got some cold hard cash out of it, too.
I have seven teeth, dammit!
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