Butcher Knives vs Butter Knives
Some people say do it cleanly. Cut all ties and be done. Others understand the pouring over of old text messages, and the slow removal of memories, items, possessions; bit by bit. Tomorrow is D-Day. D-Day, meaning Done Day. I am done. I want all of his possessions out of my house and my garage. He hasn’t even contacted me about coming to pick them up. He is taking advantage of me again. My house isn’t the storage shed. He has a storage shed. I know, because I gave him over $200 just so he could get, and keep, the storage shed. I know I will never see a dime of that money back, or for that matter, any of the money. Another expensive lesson; in more ways than one.
I just wanted you all to know that I have switched cutlery. I may have started out using the butter knife, but now I have picked up the butcher knife. I started chopping a couple of hours ago, and the first thing that went was all of the text messages. Oh, and if you see a whole bunch of smoke tomorrow night, it’s not wildfires burning, it’s his shit on fire in my front yard, and I’ll be dancing around it.
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 