March 21, 2008

Last week a man in Australia decided to put his life up for sale on Ebay. Ian Usher, fed up after his marriage ended, decided that he wanted to have a fresh start. He is auctioning his life in a "package deal." Everything from his house, his car, furniture, clothes, friends - even a two week trial run at his job.

Who would want to work at a rug shop in Perth and wear someone else's smelly T-shirts? No thanks. And how much can his friends be worth if he's willing to tack them on too?

Now if George Clooney's girlfriend decides to auction off her life, that's another story. I'd bid on that. Or Kylie. Although having her life without having her body might not be the same.

Of course it got me thinking, if I were to put my life up for sale, I wondered how much it would go for.

People would definitely bid on my life: a small but centrally located apartment, brand new Henry vacuum, and a medicine cabinet fully stocked with antibiotic and homeopathic remedies - gels, creams, lotions. There would never be a need to go to a pharmacy again. It would be good value.

There's also a gym membership, writing for a prestige newspaper, loads of air-miles, a handful of good friends in both New York and London and I'd throw in my shoes (size 36) all of which are in peak condition since I never go out.

They'd get regular appointments to the dentist, gastroenterologist, gynecologist, urologist, dermatologist and most important: the private e-mail address of my GP. Who else would be able to offer this kind of access to their doctor? It's like having a 24-hour hotline to the New England Journal of Medicine.

Another good bargain in buying my life would be getting my friends. Although, after the buyer actually purchased my life they'd realize, my friends are always busy and it takes a months of planning to see each other.

Also, there are a couple family "situations" that they'd have to deal with. And some debt. I'd make sure I said: NO RETURNS.

On Ian Usher's website there is a welcoming message from his friends ending with the sign off: Happy Bidding. On the website describing the contents of my life in the Friends section they'd leave the message: Don't call us, we'll call you.

Then again, now that I think about it, my friends might jump at the chance to make plans with whoever took over my life because they'd probably be a lot more fun to hang out with than me.

That would be awful. What if the person who bought my life really enjoyed it and had a great time? All of the fun, none of my anxiety.

Waking up eager to start the day - making plans to do things like go to concerts and parties - saying yes to invitations instead of no?

I bet if I saw someone else enjoying my life after they bought it I'd want it back. Only then it would be too late.