For the last ten years, I’ve been in a bad relationship.  Girlfriend, you know how these things start.  Enticed by the usual suspects–looks, wealth, and a really good smell–I have allowed myself to fall, and great has been the fall thereof.

Oh, we have fun in this relationship–no doubt about that–but the fun comes at a high price.  Engaging in this tango gives me a short, dizzying high (I’m flung up with the gods!), but it is invariably followed by a plummeting low of guilt and shame.  I could blame my partner for bringing out the worst in me but, as with all bad relationships, I must bear some responsibility for choosing to stay in it.  I know the time we spend together is toxic; it’s wrangled and warped and removes me ever further from reality.  I know that what seems too good to be true–the glamour, the excitement, the smell–probably is.  I know that continuing this relationship could very well cost me others (not to mention, a whole lotta money.)  But I also know that without it, my weekends and holidays get so long and lonely I can scarce endure them, and My Overall Persona loses that sparkle-and-glow that complete strangers so often compliment me on.  (oh they don’t?)  And so, though I know many things, of one thing I am certain:  it is time to end this relationship.  Which means, my dear faithfuls:  I’m breaking up with Costco.


 The last time I went to Costco, I spent

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