North Star Writers Group

eBay is an addiction, and I’m convinced that it won’t be long before there will be 12 steps designed specifically for overcoming this all-consuming habit.

For me, it’s an outlet for my natural competitiveness. My husband banned me from playing competitive euchre after an incident in which swear words were exchanged with a friend. As for tennis, I learned a long time ago that hitting the ball against the wall was much healthier for me – and my opponent.

So I found eBay. And for awhile, I was addicted. But then, I found myself in meetings at work trying to negotiate everything. “Cheryl, I know you need that report by 11:00. How about noon instead?” Then, with my husband. “Honey, can you make dinner Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday this week?” When I didn’t win, I’d sulk around for awhile, then discover something else about which I could negotiate.

When I did win, I’d demand immediate feedback, just like they give you on eBay. “Cheryl, is there any way you can e-mail my boss and tell him that I’m an excellent worker, and that you’d definitely choose me for your project team again?”

My life had become a series of win-or-lose situations, and the folks at eBay knew it. So they introduced the “Buy It Now” option, which allowed me to look, click a button and purchase. Thirty pairs of boys pajamas later (for my son, who will probably grow out of that size before he has a chance to wear all 30), and my husband has banned me from eBay permanently.

He’s right, and I’ve vowed not to go back. The problem, however, is that certain situations bring us all back to old addictions. Extreme stress caused one of my cigarette-free-for-six-years friends to smoke again. Britney Spears had to go back to rehab three times in one week, because we all know it’s nearly impossible to keep up the front that you are talented.

So I really had to think. Under what circumstances could I be drawn back to eBay? I have to know, so that I can prepare accordingly and call in my support troops. It’s going to be tough, because you can find almost anything you can dream of on there! And, you don’t even have to watch hour-long infomercials. You just use the search function.

It’s just so brilliant that I simply don’t know how I’ll avoid it once my three dream items become available.

First, there’s Automatic Household Hair Removal. For owners of multiple pets, this system would somehow, miraculously, remove pet hair while I am at work. I won’t have to lift a finger, and the only trace of my pets would be their food bowls and their cuteness. I would bid whatever I could afford on that system. I’d literally need to be tied to a chair that wasn’t on the same floor as my home office to stay off eBay.

Then there’s The Meeting Clone, which I’m sure is under development in Europe where stem cell research is taking place, like 24 hours a day, eight days a week. The Meeting Clone, of course, attends all of your work meetings so that you can actually get work done. When the ability to customize my very own Meeting Clone comes out – and I can give her my hair, my body, and the fake facial expressions I make when someone says, “I have an opportunity for you” – I’ll need more than the rope and chair. I’ll need a 500-pound man to sit on me, too.

Finally, the Workout Taser. For the person who’s tried every possible form of exercise motivation out there, but hasn’t managed to find what works, the Workout Taser literally jolts you off your couch into a running, jumping, kickboxing motion. Use it as many times in a row as necessary without physical penalty.

That would mean that I no longer need Billy Blanks in my life, and I’d pay a pretty penny for that. I love Billy, but not enough to hit “Play” on my VCR every day. When the Workout Taser comes out, I’ll need the chair, the ropes, the 500-pound man, and for someone to shatter my computer into tiny little shards the size of a Cheerio. And to hide the superglue.

So, to ready myself for the inevitable, for it’s surely just a matter of time before these items are on eBay, I am sending out an early call for help. Attention all hypnotists, therapists, life coaches and psychiatrists! If you have the strategy that could keep me off eBay no matter what, I’m listening!

Just make sure you give me the “Buy Therapy Now” option.

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This is Column # CD33. Request permission to publish here.