Morning, folks. It’s a fucking gorgeous Saturday. I’ve been up for a while now. The cats were worried I had died in my sleep and started in with the headbutts and meows at 6am.
So I spent the morning on little chores. I finally got up off my ass and put the Funko Pop figures up for sale, and the most expensive one already sold. The projector is pending pickup tonight or tomorrow morning, after some negotiations this morning. I wrote up my grocery list for the week. Since we’re short coins at work, I counted the change in the Money Bucket. I’ll trade it in on Monday. I also took measurements so I can have Home Depot cut some wood for me. Once I assume my human form, I’ll make the rounds between the various stops.
Once I’m back, I can work on the bigger chores. I need to do the laundry and the dishes. If the drill is charged, I can work on my stair repair project. Once the stairs are fixed, I’ll put the vintage furniture that’s upstairs up for sale.
Anyone need some 70’s end tables?
The other big weekend project is the Lego: I need to take pictures of them and sell them. There’s about 8 sets that are big enough to possibly be profitable, and a few smaller sets. Shawshank also collected the minifig blind bags for a while, and there’s a few dozen of those that can be sold. I don’t even know how I’ll handle their sale; do I want to pick through price guides on 50+ minis? No.
I set a goal for this month: haul at least 1 big trash bag or 4 boxes of trash out every week. That means I need to go into the basement and bring up the shitty boxes that are down there, and get them out this week. I discovered a cache of half-burnt scented candles under another pile of boxes. Those, as well as a printer and some lingering craft supplies will be thrown out.
The Pink Room still has some miscellaneous stuff to be sorted through. More lingering craft supplies, but not much, and I think most of it will be thrown out. Some clothing to sort through. I have a box of photo albums. Honestly, there’s probably nothing in them I want or need. Photo albums seem to be the physical manifestation of movies like Drumline or Bring It On. You forget they exist until you come across them, you look at them for 90 minutes, then forget about them for a few years.
Upstairs, there’s not much left to save. I have plenty of random trash to haul downstairs. The only stuff up there that won’t be thrown out is the furniture that I’ll sell.
And that’s about it. Have a good weekend, my friends.
