"But you know that sooner or later, you're going to be screaming at each other about who is going to get this dish. This $8 dish is going to cost $1,000 in phone calls to the legal firm of That's Yours and This Is Mine. Please, do me a favor for your own good. Put your names in your books right now, before they get mixed up and you don't know whose is whose. Because someday, believe it or not, you'll go 15 rounds over who is going to get this coffee table."
He wasn't kidding. Matt and I are using a SPREADSHEET to whittle away our years together.
How much is this chair worth versus who gets the dining room table? Who gets the fabulous piece of art we bought together at that street fair in Half Moon Bay?
No, really, YOU take the orange bowl your great-aunt gave us at our wedding!
Each of us is trying to aggrandize the stuff the other person is getting. It's becoming almost comical. If not for the tragedy.
Moving in less than 10 days.
And I'm taking the fucking CDs.