Last month killed me… I am actually writing from beyond the grave.
(Such is my commitment to you.)
I might not even be here today, if it were not for the fact that I went to my first auction, (apparently even in death, I cannot pass up the possibility of a good find) and I wanted to submit a brief report.
Auctions are an endurance sport of having your nerves shredded.
I do not have the mental energy to form coherent thoughts about it.
WHY ARE AUCTIONS HELD IN A LANGUAGE THAT IS NOT HUMAN?
This cannot be the best way.
In auction world – you can have THREE auctions. In the SAME warehouse. At the same TIME. And give all the auctioneers a microphone.
For the first hour, I felt like screaming – SPEAK NORMALLY!
After that, I was too busy attending to the bleeding from my ears to be bothered anymore.
Plus, on top of the noise, chaos, and way too many strangers –I had rolled out of bed and gone in pajama pants. Which was a bad plan because it was HOT. So unbelievably hot. The kind of hot where you are sweating, just standing still.
I would have left immediately. Except, obviously that would have interfered with acquiring my thing. What was it? A sofa. For Elvis.
It is a little bit oversized for her, but (like me) she likes her fancy things to be giant. Plus, it is her favorite color. And it is upholstered in velvet which means she will not have to even work to shed all over it.
Seeing as how not one of you told me about auctions, I think it speaks to my selfless good nature that I am not stingily keeping this new goldmine to myself.
If you have never been, I made you a short video. If you cannot watch it at work, here is the synopsis:
Indecipherable, anxiety-inducing noise.
Finding something I need.
Like a metaphor for my entire life.