I have 22 tubs of stuff.
Although I feel like I should immediately point out that there used to be more than 22 tubs. So technically, we’re making progress here.
These tubs have been my endless project for years.
They have lived in the garage. They have lived on the lanai. They spent some time in my son’s room.
I even rented a storage unit for a while.
Yes. At one point I was actually paying money every month to avoid making decisions about stuff I was keeping because I hoped it would make me money.
There’s probably a life lesson in there somewhere.
Currently, the remaining 22 tubs are living in what I optimistically call my one-day studio.
You can imagine how lovely 22 plastic tubs look as part of the decor.
But ugly isn’t really the problem.
Every time I look at those tubs, I see decisions I haven’t made.
But I Paid Good Money for That
That’s probably how a lot of this started.
Some of the things in those tubs cost good money.
And somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that because I’d spent good money on something, I couldn’t just give it away.
I needed to sell it.
I needed to get some of my money back.
Except here’s the part I’m finally beginning to understand:
That money is already gone.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who needs that reminder. Utah State University Extension makes the same point in its article, Spring Clean Your Life – Less Is More. When we’re struggling to let go of things we no longer need, the money we spent on them is already gone. Feeling guilty—or keeping the stuff—doesn’t bring it back. They also warn against simply buying more storage bins to hide the clutter, which made me look at my 22 tubs a little differently.
It was gone the day I bought the thing.
Keeping something I no longer want isn’t going to bring the money back. Moving it from the garage to the lanai to my son’s room to my future studio certainly isn’t going to bring it back.
And renting a storage unit to keep it?
Well, now I was spending even more money because I couldn’t let go of the money I’d already spent.
Ouch.
That Doesn’t Mean I’m Giving Everything Away
I’m not loading all 22 tubs into the car and heading for the nearest donation center.
There are things in those tubs that have value.
If I can sell them and put some money back into my pocket, I absolutely want to do that.
For years, eBay has been one way I’ve done it.
And once upon a time, eBay felt pretty easy.
List ten things. Sell one.
Keep listing, keep selling.
Making money is a pretty good motivator.
But lately my eBay mojo has left the building.
Selling Isn’t Quite as Easy as It Used to Be
Maybe it’s the economy. Maybe people shop differently. Maybe there’s simply so much stuff for sale online now that it’s harder to get noticed.
Maybe eBay has changed.
Maybe I’ve changed.
Probably a little of all of it.
Whatever the reason, things have been slow on eBay.
And selling online takes work.
Pull something out of a tub. Figure out exactly what it is. Research it. Photograph it. Measure it. Write the listing. Figure out what to charge. Put it somewhere while you wait for it to sell.
Then, if it sells, find it again, pack it, print the label and ship it.
That’s a fair amount of effort for an inexpensive item.
Shipping complicates things, too.
If something costs $8 to ship, it had better be something somebody really wants. Paying almost as much for shipping as you paid for the item itself isn’t terribly appealing.
So I’ve been looking at other options.
There’s Always Facebook Marketplace
Facebook Marketplace can be great for getting rid of clutter locally.
No packing. No shipping. And when someone hands you money and takes something away, there’s one less thing in your house.
I am beginning to appreciate that last part more than I used to.
Of course, Marketplace has its own special charms.
“Is this available?”
Yes.
“I definitely want it.”
Great.
“I’ll be there at 4.”
Wonderful.
And they are never heard from again.
Then there are the people who want to know just how low you will go on something you’ve already priced cheaply.
Still, when Marketplace works, it works.
Money in my hand.
Stuff out of my house.
That’s a pretty good combination.
And Then There’s Vinted
I haven’t tried Vinted yet, but I’ve noticed other sellers moving there.
No seller fees gets my attention. So does inexpensive shipping for smaller items.
On the other hand, some of the stories I’ve heard make it sound a little like the Wild West.
I’m curious enough that I may have to venture in and see what happens.
Because I’m starting to realize that I don’t need one perfect way to sell everything.
eBay might be right for some things.
Marketplace might be better for others.
Maybe Vinted will earn a place in the rotation.
And some things aren’t worth selling at all.
Maybe I’ve Been Asking the Wrong Question
For years, I’ve looked at something and asked:
How much can I get for this?
That’s not a bad question.
But maybe it shouldn’t be the first question.
Maybe the first question should be:
Does this still serve a purpose in my life?
If the answer is yes, great. Keep it.
If the answer is no, then it needs to go.
After that I can decide how.
Sell it.
Donate it.
Give it to someone who would enjoy it.
Throw it away if that’s honestly where it belongs.
But keeping it indefinitely because I once paid good money for it?
That’s not recovering my money.
That’s storing my old spending decisions in plastic tubs.
The Tubs Have a Cost, Too
Those 22 tubs aren’t costing me storage-unit rent anymore, thankfully.
But they aren’t free.
They’re occupying my one-day studio.
I want that room.
I want a place where I can sew, cross-stitch, work on photographs, spread a project out on a table and leave it there if I want to.
Instead, I’m storing things I don’t particularly want because I’m waiting to turn them back into money.
The tubs take up physical space.
But I think they take up mental space, too.
Every time I see them, they say the same thing:
You still haven’t dealt with us.
That’s a cost.
The 22-Tub Project
So I’m changing the goal.
The goal isn’t to sell 22 tubs of stuff.
The goal is to make a decision about everything in those 22 tubs.
I’d still like to make some money.
If something could reasonably sell for $25, I’m not going to donate it just so I can say I emptied a tub.
But if I could theoretically get $10 for something after photographing it, researching it, listing it, storing it for six months, packing it and shipping it?
Maybe that one gets donated.
And if I could eventually get $25 on eBay but someone will give me $15 today and take it out of my house?
I’m starting to think $15 sounds pretty good.
Getting some money back is a bonus. Getting something I no longer need out of my life is the goal.
That’s my new rule.
I’m not promising to empty one tub every day.
I’m not starting a 30-day decluttering challenge.
And I’m definitely not announcing that I’m going to list ten things on eBay every morning before breakfast.
I’ve met myself.
I know how that story ends.
I’m simply going to start making decisions.
Sell it if selling makes sense.
Donate it if it doesn’t.
Keep it because I actually want it — not because I remember what I paid for it.
And eventually, I’d like to walk into my studio and notice something is missing.
Twenty-two tubs.
I’ll let you know how it goes.