We had out garage sale over the weekend, and it was a lot of work for very little result, unfortunately. I made $63, Stephanie made something like $20, and both of us practically killed ourselves preparing and tearing everything down. Most of it was that we didn’t have enough traffic; there were lots of people in the morning, but no one in the afternoon at all. I wonder how much advertising the neighborhood did… but that’s not really fair to blame the people who volunteered their time to set up the sale, either, because I know that’s hard work, too, and they deserve thanks for taking it on.
It’s also a little depressing to sell (or not sell) your own things, actually, which didn’t help my mood. I like all this stuff, really, it’s just that I have too much or it doesn’t work in my house or whatever. But I feel like it still has some value.
I should publicly thank our neighbors, also, for helping out. Patrick and Samika (I hope I’m spelling her name right) next door were great; they loaned us folding tables, and Samika helped carry stuff in out of the torrential downpour at the end of the day, as did our brand-new (as of this weekend) neighbor, whose name, I think, is Kyle.
Also, several of our friends showed up, which is hugely cool; Jen came by, Rachel visited, Bil and Jerame stopped in, Elizabeth and Joe were there, and Barb and Robin came by, too. Thank you all for supporting us!
Then I put gas in my truck this morning, and it cost me $36.19 for 13.715 gallons. That sucks, frankly. If I hadn’t been on fumes, I could have tried to shop around for a better price, but I haven’t been good with this vehicle about filling up before the tank is empty. I always was before. I need to get back in that habit quick, because the price of gas is too high to just stop at the nearest station out of necessity.
I kind of feel like Morgan Spurlock in the first episode of “30” where they were living on minimum wage, and the money kept going down the drain…