Man, 2018, right? I remember that year well. It felt like everyone, including me, was just trying to figure out what was next. You’d see all these articles popping up – “Your Zodiac Forecast for the Year,” “What’s Ahead for Your Career,” “Virgo Daily Career Outlook” and all that jazz. I mean, I wasn’t really into astrology, but I get the feeling. You’re just casting around, looking for some kind of sign, some direction, anything to give you a leg up or a heads-up on what’s coming.
I was in a spot myself back then. My main gig was okay, but I was feeling restless, like there had to be something more, something I could build for myself. I got this itch to try something totally different, a little side hustle, you know? Something tangible. I’d always tinkered with old electronics, fixing up broken phones, laptops, even old game consoles. So, I figured, why not try to make a few bucks off it? It wasn’t about some grand career shift, just trying to see if I could turn a hobby into something productive.
So, I started this little project. I’d go to flea markets, check out online classifieds for “broken” stuff people wanted to get rid of cheap. The first step was buying. I’d pick up a busted Xbox 360 here, a cracked-screen iPad there. Problem was, pretty quickly I realized I had no real idea if I was making money or just burning it. I was just buying stuff, fixing it, then selling it. It felt good when something sold, sure, but was it actually profitable after all the time and parts? I had no clue. That’s when I thought, “Okay, I gotta track this.”
My first attempt at tracking was a mess. I literally just grabbed a small, spiral-bound notebook, one of those cheap ones from the dollar store. I’d scrawl down the date, what I bought, and how much it cost me. Then, maybe a few days later, I’d write down what parts I ordered for it and their cost. When I finished fixing something, I’d make a note, and finally, when it sold, I’d put down the sale price. It was totally haphazard. Some days I’d be super diligent, other days I’d forget for a week straight and then try to remember everything from memory, which, spoiler alert, never quite worked out.
After a couple of months of this chaotic scribbling, I stepped back and looked at my notebook. It was a jumble of dates, prices, crossed-out figures, and half-remembered notes. I couldn’t really tell you which items were big earners and which were just a waste of my time. I realized this wasn’t just “record-keeping”; this was a black hole for information. I needed to systematize it, even if it was just for myself.
That’s when I moved to a spreadsheet. Nothing fancy, just Google Sheets. I set up a few columns. I distinctly remember the first ones: Date Acquired, Item Description, Purchase Price. Then I added Parts Cost, and then a really important one: Time Spent (Hours), because my time was worth something, even if it was just to me. After that came Listing Price, Sale Price, and finally, Platform Sold On (eBay, local pickup, etc.).
It was still a grind at first. I had to force myself to open that sheet every time I did something related to the project. Bought a new screwdriver? Add it to “Tools & Overhead.” Spent three hours wrestling with a corroded circuit board? Log those three hours. It felt like homework sometimes, especially after a long day at my main job. But something started to shift.
I started seeing patterns. Some items, even if bought cheap, just ate up too much time and had low resale value. Others were quick fixes with decent margins. I began to understand which types of repairs were worth my energy and which weren’t. For example, a cracked iPhone screen was often a quick flip, but a water-damaged laptop could be a money pit. The numbers on my sheet told a story no “Virgo Outlook” ever could.
This process of meticulously tracking every little detail, from the exact cost of a micro-USB port to the precise number of minutes I spent troubleshooting a power issue, made me realize something profound. It wasn’t about some abstract future forecast; it was about the concrete, measurable effort I was putting in and the actual results I was getting. My “career outlook” for this side gig wasn’t coming from some generic prediction; it was coming from my own data, my own records. That spreadsheet became my most valuable tool, far more insightful than any general advice.
By the end of 2018, I had a pretty clear picture. I understood my profitability, my efficiency, and what avenues to pursue or drop. It didn’t make me a millionaire, but it taught me a hell of a lot about planning, execution, and the sheer power of keeping good, honest records of your own work. It taught me to trust my own numbers over any forecast. That experience changed how I looked at not just side projects, but any goal I set for myself. No more guessing, just tracking and adjusting.
