Sometimes, deciding is what matters

Sometimes, deciding is the only thing that matters. On Sunday, I decided to cut my losses from a stupid decision, and that’s the only thing I don’t regret about the whole saga.

In February of last year, I ordered a garden shed online. It wasn’t cheap, but it had a smaller footprint than others I’d considered, and it’s mostly plastic construction meant I wouldn’t need to paint it and it wouldn’t rust or rot. At the time, it seemed like a good idea.

I realised later that a garden shed isn’t a good place to store valuable things, so I didn’t know what I would put in it. Outdoor furniture was the best option, I decided—except, I have a garage?

The bigger issue was that I couldn’t decide if I could build the correct base for it (A wood deck? A concrete slab?), and otherwise I’d have to hire someone to do it for me, which isn’t cheap. I also felt that at a bit more than 2 metres in height, it would tower over the boundary fence, which isn’t ideal—well, assuming I could decide on where to put the thing. Another barrier.

And that’s where it’s been stuck for a year and a half. That’s 18 months with the thing taking up a LOT of space in my garage: I have to carefully inch past some of its large panels to get to my side door, where the rubbish and recycling bins are. I also haven’t been able to get into the storage cupboard in the garage since maybe March/April of last year.

This has caused me a lot of pain, guilt, shame—you name it. That ended on Sunday.

NZ’s online auction site was offering 50% of success fees this weekend, and since I assumed I’d be eating a big financial loss, every cent saved helps. So, I listed it.

The shed quickly reached my reserve and that means it’s sold (the auction closes on Sunday, a week after listing). The listing has several watchers, and that means it’s likely that the final price will be a bit higher, but still much less than I paid—and I don’t care!

Buying that damn shed was a stupid thing to do—my biggest, hugest regret since moving into this house, and I’ve since decided I wanted it gone—out of my garage and outta my life. It soon will be.

Sometimes, deciding is the only thing that matters. And when that’s true, it’s also incredibly liberating. I can feel a huge weight lifting already, and all because I followed another impulse, to correct a big mistake. Onward!

Pro Tip: If you’re going to sell a kitset thing, like, say, a garden shed, and it’s not in the original box anymore, print out the parts list from the user manual to use as a checklist to make sure all the parts are there. After some 18 months in my garage, and after I moved pieces several times, it was a good way to verify everything was there so I’ll have happy a buyer who’ll leave a good review. 🙂👍

This post is a revised and expanded version of something I posted to my personal Facebook on Sunday. The photo at the top of the post is a detail from the shed’s user manual. The photo at the bottom of the post is something I posted to Facebook the next day, Monday. The caption for the lower photo is the same as what I posted on Facebook.