Am I alone in this? Spreading my tattered belongings out for the neighbours to inspect, having people quibble over a quarter, having to interact with people, and then hauling half of it to Value Village afterward anyway...I really don't like hosting garage sales. I'm going to earn, what? Fifty bucks? I'd rather forego that and donate everything to charity instead.
There's something shameful about it, though I can't put my finger on why? I mean, the concept is fine, isn't it? I have stuff I don't want, maybe you need it, we'll exchange or we'll barter... I've even purchased a fine guitar at a garage sale before. But somehow, spreading my old stuff out causes the faint taste of failure in my mouth. These are things I thought I wanted but now I don't. I change my mind a lot, you see. These are things I once spent good money on. This is my taste in reading material but it was so lousy I don't want to cherish these books and reread them. These are the clothes I used to fit into...
Then again, you could see it another way, I suppose. So many people have given me flowers that I have no room for all the glass vases. I have so much leisure time that I've read all of these books and hundreds besides. My life is so abundant my house is literally bursting at the seams and something must go. I'm teaching my children to recycle rather than throw away...
Nope. Still not buying it (no pun intended). It's all going into a donation box somewhere. And Saturday morning remains free.
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