All of My 1 Things and What They Cost

toy-story-3-508098b122af2+ Sold two big bags of small toddler clothes: $20 total. This involved inventorying and then trying to list items on the Park Slope Parents Classifieds board, only to realize I no longer had access to Classifieds. I had to figure out who to email about that, email them, wait for a response, and contemplate ditching the whole shebang on the sidewalk and hoping someone worthy would wander by and grab it instead of one of the many neighborhood shahs. Odds: 40 to 1 against.

Finally I confirmed with the right person that I did, indeed, pay my $35 annual fee in June for the right to get emails advertising “homemade natural toothpaste” and to sell stuff that I myself got second-hand or for free.

Then I had to negotiate by email with people who want X but not Y, or who want everything but can’t come til next week, and what brands are the shoes because her baby’s feet are wide; and strike the best balance; and wait some more.

The buyer arrived at last, sweet and eager. My daughter’s only four months old, she told me, so we won’t need this for a while, but I thought I’d snatch it up. Four months! I said. How’s it going? Fine, she said, dreamily. She’s gotten so big, I’m already dreaming about another.

This woman could not exist and yet there she was, pushing a twenty into my hand with a smile.

Still cluttering up much-needed living room floor space as they wait for takers: big bag of small toddler boots and shoes; one highchair Babygirl refuses to sit in anymore (“I no baby,” she informs me, this giant of two); two car seats (we don’t have a car); a potty book for boys I assume someone gave us by mistake (“here is your Pee-Pee for making Wee Wee”); some new clothes in the sizes Minuscule and Ginormous which must also have been a mistake, or else perhaps were the product of a gift-giver shopping while drunk; a bag of semi-useless battery-operated toys, many of them scrawled on with crayon (“I drawing!”); some Styrofoam-ish floor tiles the color of Froot Loops (ditto); and my sanity.

$20 OBO

+ Got flu shot: -$14, with health insurance. Oscar, but, it counts. Also, ouch.

+ Called 80-year-old, cardigan-wearing Dr. Kansan to make sure that he takes Oscar. He does! Set up a new appointment which will cost me $50. Mental health = priceless.

+ Transferred $5,000 into my IRA for 2014. FYI: The max is now $5,500 a year! I had only planned to transfer $5K so I’ll leave the $500 as option for later this year in case I feel flush, perhaps because someone gives us $1,000,000 for Babygirl’s scribbled-on toys or, you know, my novel.

+ Some freelance work for a family member. Dreaded, delayed, finally accomplished. Don’t work for family. (You know this.)

+ Rewarded myself with a Mounds bar from the drugstore: -89 cents. Ate it in leisurely fashion while reading Outlander, which I enjoyed so much — it’s like Game of Thrones for librarians — that I continued to read for the next two hours because dammit sometimes your week needs to do 1 thing for you. 

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