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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