My cheating ex once gave me a tie-dyed license plate cover for Christmas after D-Day — because I’m a “hippy chick.” He proudly affixed it to my car — and then later I unscrewed it and threw it out. And then later I threw him out.
Leaving a cheater is a massive clean-up effort. (Like Superfund clean up sites, only without the federal financing.) There is the crap the cheater gave you. And then there is the other detritus of cheaters — the crap they leave behind. Their high school year books… their pilled sweaters… their children.
Somehow cheaters seem to think personal organizing is YOUR job. And aren’t you building a shrine for them? Save it! Because you could always be Plan B if you pick me dance hard enough!
I’d like to know — what did you do with their crap? Did you get a 24-foot-cubic dumpster? A storage locker? A shredder (to make “chumpfetti”)?
And of course, no sooner do you make a decision about their crap, then they’re asking for it. “Do you have my book on West Virginia coal mining?” (This was an actual query sent to my lawyer.) “The fountain pen my uncle gave me?” “My fishing rod”?
NO. But maybe if you weren’t circulating between multiple households of women, you might know where you left it.
Geez. So tell me YOUR strategies for cheater crap. Help the newbies. Help the storage locker industry.
This column ran previously.