Day 156: Headache

Hello wild ones, I sincerely hope your Saturday was better than mine.

Today was not the best day. My birthday started early, like 5 am early. Woke up feeling great, the day was full of promise and of course I was super excited because it’s my mother-fucking-birthday. The trucks got loaded without a hitch, M brought me breakfast, and unloading went smoothly.

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My booth was very cute. I worked hard on setting up and spent a ton of time moving stuff around. I really loved our setup. That was about the only part of whole situation I loved.

It was when I realized that there were a few other people selling furniture as well and at least one booth had stuff almost exactly like mine. I also found out that this particular market was not nearly as large as I was led to believe. In total there were about 13 vendors, the last show I did there twice as many vendors and it was in the middle of our little town. This is a “higher” end wedding venue that reaches a ton of people in our area and beyond. Wow. I was wrong. I felt like I saw maybe just as many people as my small time shows if not less.

We’ve talked before about how awful it makes me feel when people mill around my space and then just walk out without buying anything. By the time 11 am rolled around I was completely over craft shows in general. I was tired, my feet hurt from walking around in my wet shoes, i was starving, and I kept feeling the sharp sting of rejection. I didn’t make a sale until about 10:30 am and it was a planter that wasn’t even technically for sale, but I sold it to her because it was the only action I had seen.

I started slashing prices around the 1 pm mark and even though M and her kids were hanging out with me I felt terrible. My energy level was dangerously low and I was seriously just at the point where I wanted to give up. Because I was exhausted I decided that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to go out tonight and party my anything off.

People took offense to that. Which pissed me off even more. I’m a push over, always have been and I probably always will be. Sometimes that means I feel bad when I do stand up for myself, but today I told myself I was not going to apologize or feel bad for changing my birthday plans. It’s my fucking birthday, if I want to go dig a hole and sit in it that’s what I’ll do. So, I steeled myself from the whiplash and kept firm to my decision to stay home for the night.

At the end of the day I only sold 2 pieces for furniture and 3 small decor items, made a total of $200 dollars, which I should be grateful for because the woman next to me mad almost nothing. After unloading everything into storage I came home with a severe headache, tired everything, and a bleak outlook of my future in the crafting world.

My night ended on the couch with a greasy slice of pizza and a large hunk of birthday cake. I’m okay with this ending, it’s not exactly what I had planned for, but in my life nothing ever works out exactly as I planned.

So have a good night people, have a drink for me, and stay safe.

Until tomorrow, stay wonderfully wild!
Chels

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