On the one hand, it’s not nice to play on the weaknesses of others.

On the other hand, there’s one born every minute. (Corollary: those of us who are smart enough to realize and utilize that fact, are obligated to pay homage to Darwin.)

I just netted over $100 on just a small handful of eBay auctions. My two highest-selling items? Went for three and four times what I paid for them. And one of those was worn by my daughter for over two years before the resale.

Now I am but a shell of my former self, having cycled through all five stages of eBay in a matter of minutes. Friends, I am spent. For the love of all that is holy, can I get a cold drink over here??

Stage 1: Denial
Holy cow. I don’t think that cost that much new. Some people are really stupid. Or desperate. Or rich. Maybe it was a mistake. There’s no way they’re going to pay that. The email will come any minute now, saying that their cat walked across the keyboard and placed the bid while they were busy tending to war-ravaged amputees at the local shelter.

Stage 2: Anger and Resentment
You know, if they try to get out of this I’m going to have to slap them with one of those “your bid is a binding contract” emails because my time is valuable! I don’t want to be jerked around and if they think I’m gonna let them off just because they got a little overzealous and now they have buyer’s remorse, they have another think coming! I’ve got my NPB form open RIGHT OVER HERE and I’m not afraid to use it!

Stage 3: Bargaining
If all of that money actually comes in, maybe I could buy myself a little something. Just a little something. Why do I have to use it all for bills? Or to buy more stuff for the kids? A round of fully paid auctions almost never happens, so if it does, surely I deserve a little reward….

Stage 4: Depression
Who am I kidding? I’m already planning on spending money that I’m never going to see? Now we start with a week of hell. I believe “waiting for buyers to contact you, honor their purchases, and actually send fundage” is one of the rings of hell in updated version of The Inferno, actually. I’ll get everything ready to ship and it’ll all just sit there on the dining room table and I’ll never see a single cent. Why do I bother?

Stage 5: Acceptance
It’ll work out. Damn, I should figure out a way to bottle Chickadee’s sweat. It apparently makes clothing very valuable.

Thank goodness I have the fortitude to ride out these turbulent times.