The Purge

Ever contemplate just how aerodynamic your couch is? Burning questions like:

  • Will it actually hit the pool if hurtled from my balcony?
  • Will it clear the hedges?
  • Should I warn people below?

If so, you too may have been taking part in the time honored tradition known as “The Purge” (recently memorialized on Gilmore Girls).

In the moments before I came to terms with the whole “he’s getting married” thing and after I’d caused that little multi-city blackout, I realized that everything in my apartment reminded me of The Ex. And while the years of separation meant I had blessedly little that was actually his, I was still able to create overflowing mountains of “He Gave Me” and “Reminds Me of Him”.

This, my dear friends, is why on the 8th day God created garage sales and good will. It’s good to donate while the torrent of emotions is threatening to make you into the next Pol Pot because you tend to be at your most ruthless. As you cool down and let sanity wash back over you, you tend to get gooey.

You see the couch isn’t just my couch. It was our couch, which was originally his couch. Which technically means it’s now my ex couch. Thus, the contemplation of “couch in flight”.

So, did I toss the couch from the balcony? No.

Was it saved because I calmed down and realized that, in fact, couches are expensive and not embodiments of hurt feelings and disappointment? um… sure. Ok. Well… you know.. that and the fact that it got stuck, and I couldn’t get it through the sliding glass door.



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