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Suburban Addictions: Tale of a Garage Sale Junkie

6 Jun

I’m admitting to it right now. I’m an addicted to garage sales. I don’t think I qualify for “Strange Addictions“. Maybe “Hoarders” if I ever allow myself to accumulate things.

I used to think that my garage sale addiction was all about being frugal. Until I learned something. Something that threatens to take away even this meager part of my fragile identity.

Today I learned that I’m really tired of it all. I’m only doing it now because I promised my cousin that I’d get her boys some clothes. That’s it. I don’t enjoy it any more. It’s just the same old routine basically. Rich bitches staring me down because I don’t look like the type who’d pay near retail for their adorable love muffin’s lightly used sweat pants (and by lightly used, I mean knees nearly worn through and the elastic shot to hell.) And they’re right. I’m not that type of person. I’m not interested in your overpriced outfits, even if they are Gymboree and GAP…sorry, I can get the same thing at a consignment store for a hell of a lot less and be able to return it to boot.

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