Remember how I posted about feeling like I just had to have something? No? Okay, well I'm too lazy to find the entry, so trust me. I can be compulsive sometimes. A little irrational about things, even. If I want something, I feel as if I will just die if I don't get it. I will spend a day hand-wringing from the suspense of not knowing if the object of my desire will wind up in my hot little hands in the end. Sometimes I do get it, and it's a disappointment (remember the saga of the boots? No? Well look it up, I'm feeling lazy and not in the mood to link it right now). Sometimes I get it and it's everything I had hoped for and more. Sometimes if I don't get it, I get over it and move on. Then there are the other times.
Yes, I'm talking about the times when I want something, don't get it, and it haunts me for days, weeks or years. Price is not the object, it's that this is the one that got away. If only, you think. I never die when I don't get these things, but man I hate life for awhile. The last time this happened, it was when I wanted to buy a portrait of Heffer.
I know, I know. "Who?"
If you didn't watch the show Rocko's Modern Life, chances are, you don't know and you don't care about Heffer. This was the sidekick friend to the show's main character (Rocko) who serves as the greedy, yet loveable oaf. He's the precursor to Patrick from Spongebob. He's a gluttonous, childlike cow raised by wolves. It's funny--please just trust me on this.
Well on my list of blogs, I have linked to the journal of the show's creator (Joe Murray). Recently he's been auctioning off animation cels from the show and eventually he put up a piece of original art--a 5X7 framed painting of Heffer. I intended to bid on something eventually, but when this came up, I got that feeling in my gut. I HAD TO HAVE IT. The moment that feeling comes along, all rational thought is overruled.
"Can you bid on this?" I asked my husband after deciding I HAD TO HAVE IT. I used to be an eBay junkie and I'd like to say I stopped bidding because I calmed down and broke the addiction, but the truth is, I can't remember the original email address I used when I signed up for the account. I have a yahoo address I've been using forever, but I signed onto eBay using an old account from an internet service provider that I don't use anymore (*cough*Roadrunner*cough*). Now that I can't figure that out, I stopped bidding because I'm too lazy and impatient to log in and update my profile information. Here's a nice thing about being being married--my husband knows his account information so he can bid on my behalf. It's like the low rent version of rich people getting someone else to make their bids at Sotheby's.
Anyway, I kept the end date in my head. There was one bidder already, but if my husband swooped in, I had a chance. The bidding was set to end right around the time my daughter's bedtime, so if all worked out as planned, he would win the auction and I would be tucking in our daughter. Then we could go collapse on the couch with our glasses of Champagne, celebrating our purchase of the Heffer painting.
"The auction ends soon!" I reminded my husband, just before heading up from the basement. He was multitasking, with his iPhone in one hand and the game controller in the other.
"I won't forget; I've got it." he replied, urging me to go upstairs. Nothing makes you feel better than knowing someone's got your back. I went upstairs and finished putting our daughter to bed. About a minute until the end time, I texted my husband (yes, he was two floors down, don't judge). Then I went downstairs for confirmation. His face very clearly told me that he indeed did forget, and did not have it at all.
And what happens when that happens? I don't know about you, but I get pissed (hey, I'm not proud). There was a misunderstanding. Apparently he did not get that this was a one of a kind thing--there would not be another original Heffer painting just like the one we didn't win. There wouldn't be another one simply because that WAS the one. Really it's my fault. I should have done my own dirty work and if I had lost fairly, at least I knew I tried. I didn't try.
What I did do was get in the car and drive across the street for a little retail therapy. (hey, I'm not proud) I didn't find any Heffer paintings, but I calmed down.
My husband emailed the seller (Mr. Murray), but nothing came out of it. The next part was killing off the hope that maybe my husband was playing a little joke with the intent to surprise me later on. When there was a lack of mysterious packages in the mail and the Heffer painting failed to materialize for Valentine's Day, I gave up.
I realize the final step is getting over it and moving on. I considered removing the link to Joe Murray's journal. After every auction, he posts a photo of the item with the announcement "SOLD!!!" in the title. I can't even bear to look. In fact, I can't even go there to see what else he's put up for sale, if anything. If I see something and decide I HAVE TO HAVE IT, then if I don't get it, I really might die this time. Sometimes it's just better not to look in the first place.