thrifting – Happily Ticked Off

My intentional space… everything here I love (minus the Punky Brewster rainbow colored fan which I’m having Santa replace on Christmas.)

It feels weird having a whole lot of space to myself. It’s not just my office that is cleared out. My head is, also. All that crap I’d been holding onto to sell for a few bucks was akin to sunscreen on my face: blocking me from the sunlight of my very own spirit.

All this beautiful new office space has given me permission to focus on my own writing. I don’t have to worry about last minute post office runs, or forgetting packages altogether because I was too busy running carpool or rushing to a last minute sub gig.

I don’t have to bolt out my house anymore to inconveniently meet a ~~client~~ random neighbor to grab their old stuff (stuff that is worth $5 but they swear is valued at $25) and flip it online at the expense of my own sanity flipping out. And equally as important, I don’t have to serve my family the scraps that are left with all my nice energy being expended on other people.

I think what kept me in the game so long was the idea of having a little extra spending cash. And I did have it. But at what cost? Avoiding smarter budgeting conversations with Rex, or being firm with what I need, is not a good reason to hustle for pennies. If anything, this mentality kept me from pushing my own career forward, as well as being more forthright with my needs.)

Absolutely sticking a stake in the heart of my Ebay delusion feels a bit like getting a cast off. Or a divorce. We got used to each other’s eccentricities. Both of us weren’t getting much from the deal, but there were some fun perks, like outings to our favorite resale haunts. But, to quote my old pastor, the deeper the death, the higher the resurrection. Sure he was talking about spiritual items, and not used Keens water shoes that smelled like baby pee, but the idea is the same. I can’t rise above my circumstances when I’m being buried in old ideas and products.

So while I still toy with the idea of owning my own online clothing empire akin to retro Ms. Frizzle dresses, I am going to take a huge leap of faith and construct own my own Andrea empire complete with scripts, books and an private online presence where we can get together and talk about how positive attitude and prayer can transform our lives into what we’ve always wanted them to be but were too afraid to do.

Join Me in a Private Facebook Group!

If talking more personally sounds interesting to you, hit me up on Facebook! I’ll be happy to add you. Find me at the group @HappilyTickedOff (not to be confused with my Facebook Page, HappilyTickedOff.)

Also stay tuned: I do have a few very nice items that I’m going to run a giveaway at my Happily Ticked Off Facebook group on.

Leave a Comment and Join Me on Facebook! (It’ll be fun to get to you know on a more personal, private forum!)

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. )

(Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook.

Something in me has always wanted more than what is achievable in 24 hours. I want more time writing, more time eating, more time working and more time with family. And then (here’s the real fun part) it’s still not enough.

I believe, my friends, this is what you call an addiction. The antidote to this hamster wheel of delusion is simple. It requires being more present. Executing on this action, however, is less than easy, for it requires an absolute stake into the heart of a belief structure. It means acknowledgement that said belief structure is no longer working. And for me, my friends, that structure is none other than OMTS: One More Thing Syndrome.

“No, dear, you cannot Ebay and Clean Out Someone’s House for $20/hr AND write your blog and finish rewrites to that screenplay. KILL THE BEAST OF DELUSION!”

Like most people who hit bottom with their addictions, my OMTS came to a crashing halt on Saturday afternoon. I had been up since 6am to run a garage sell for a friend. As if it wasn’t enough incomprehensible demoralization that we did not sell one single item in three hours (nope, no one wanted used Halloween items from 1987 that looked like pumpkins on acid) her neighbor made a quick 20 bucks by just walking over, dropping off an old wheelchair, and going back into her house to watch Downton Abbey. Now whose the winner in this scenario? Ding ding ding! It wasn’t me!

I could have gotten pissed off, but in a way, I was secretly relieved for the clarity. How many ring around the rosy’s selling other people’s used items will it take for me to heal from OMTS? How much time spent driving to the post office to drop off packages for folks in other zip codes that could have been spent reading the rest of the Narnia series with my son or learning to sew with my daughter in the most precious zip code of all – the present?

Yesterday, with the sun beating into my car and stress building up about having to clean out Great Grandma Stella’s mobile home later in the day, I got it. I didn’t hear God speaking to me in a loud voice, but it was my very spirit that had finally surrendered and was gracious enough to make itself crystal clear.

“Enough,” it whispered. “How long before you put a stake into the fear of ‘I am not making enough?’ and just remember to ‘become enough because God is enough.’ ”

And so I made a promise to both my sweet husband and our sponsor couple: NO MORE SIDE GIGS.

No more extra income helping people move but costing me a fortune in burn out.

No more Ebay listings that give no return on my spiritual path.

For the rest of the summer – outside of taking care of myself and my very sweet family – I will spend my free time writing and writing only.

Today was the first day of this new routine, and it was beautiful. It was a day spent singing with my daughter at church as well as delivering a message. (Who knew I had something to say to a church full of people? A small church, but never-the-less, people didn’t freak out or grow tails.)

It was a day remembering last night’s visit to Great Grandma Stella who was so happy to see us at her door she cried tears of gratitude. (As well as told us that she thought her legs looked “pretty damn sexy for a 98-year-old.”)

It was an afternoon drive home from my communication class with Rex to talk a bit more about what I need to do to get my writing off the ground while subbing. (Guess what people! It doesn’t involve OTMS!!!! Nope, extras that don’t matter have got to go!)

Mostly it was a day of peace. Because in surrendering the happy shiny marbles that ultimately lead to nothing, I am making room for God to work diamonds of true meaning in my life.

I am not where I want to be, but I am grateful for the wisdom and willingness to keep on pressing on toward what matters most.

Oh, and although I am no longer allowing myself to flip crap on Ebay, I did purchase these beauties for myself at a thrift store yesterday. I saw them in between waiting for coffee at In and Out Burger and my son happily sorting through a bin of vintage Scooby Doo DVDs. It’s not every day that a pair of pink jellies in size 10, for ten bucks, comes my way.

I had to.

Don’t judge.

Tag: thrifting

I’ve Seen Salvation… Army!

God Bless the Broken Road… That Led Me Back to You. And Polka Dot Jellies