I have junk. Lots of it. It's in my garage, and I'm pretty sure while I'm not looking it encroaches inch by inch onto the side of the garage reserved for my car when it snows. "Yard sale," I promise myself every weekend, but never act on. Until I did.
My mom knows two Internet presences: Hotmail and Craigslist. Wednesday we decided on the garage sale, and her first thought was, "We have to post it on Craigslist. SomeoneIKnow posted hers on Craigslist and had all kinds of people." This was one on me: I am always on the interweb tubes and had no idea people searched Craisglist for garage sale listings. But list our yard sale we did, complete with hours and directions. And come, people did not.
We also put up signs at the major intersections near my house. There were some customers, but it was not the bustling flea market I'd hoped it would be. The salt on the wound was that I happened to be reading a novel that opens with a yard sale in which our beloved main character pockets $1600.00. How is that even possible? In my experience, junk unloaders will sell you 5 coffee tables for a dime. We were selling clothing for a quarter per item, but it wasn't really moving. If it had, that $1600.00 would totally have been mine. If only I knew the secret formula for turning my no-longer-needed wares into glittering gems that cause those quarters to leap out of the bargain shoppers' pockets. Until then, donation will be my decluttering solution.
