I am frugal and stubborn. Close family and friends will immediately and passionately agree.

I spend two weeks deciding whether to buy socks and I use items until they fall apart. This also means many times in my personal and work-life, I’ve ignored signs for me to end something before it gets worse. But I don’t. Despite every indication from my intuition, I hang on for dear life.

Thus it was incredibly difficult for me to throw away what is arguably the world’s most hideous food item:

Parmesan topping.

At first glance, the container promises the tasty delight Parmesan cheese provides to many-a-dish. But look closer. The container reads “topping.” There is no real cheese in this item. It’s like chalk.

It was the most dreadful thing I’ve tasted, other than the fish-flavored crackers my university co-worker Kathy gave me once.

Not only did I feel cheated by the word “Parmesan” and the drawing of Italy, it was painful to dump this into the garbage can.

Few times in my life have I stepped into a situation that wasn’t as I expected and it ended up being dreadful. But when I have, it has been horribly painful to extricate myself because, like the “cheese”, I hated to throw it away.

I once took a freelance job with a high school sports show. It aired on the TV station where I already worked and included our onair and production staff. The producers, writing, editing, and photography were provided by a local production house.

I already worked five days per week from 2:00pm until 11:00pm on newscasts at my TV station. The heads of the production firm said my work for them would consist of a few hours per week setting up interviews with coaches and players and then booking the photographers needed to shoot those interviews.

I could do that for the money they offered. It was, per hour, way more than what I was earning at the TV station.

Then, as the project started, I discovered I would be writing those stories I set up and making sure the scripts got to the sports anchor to voice. I was responsible for dressing the set in the studio at the TV station. This meant procuring furniture from stores and working with the art and production staff at the TV station to make the set look good.

I was also in charge of scheduling the time for recording the show and making sure scripts were typed into the TelePrompTer. I would have to run PrompTer during the taping too. This meant doing this during, before, and after my fulltime work hours.

High school coaches and athletes, I learned, aren’t sitting near phones all day nor return calls in a timely fashion. I ended up working from 6:30a.m. until nearly midnight Monday through Friday.

Plus, energy from one of the production house owners was negative and draining. Bill was condescending and cranky.

“Get out,” the Universe whispered early. The whispering got louder.

But I couldn’t throw away the fake cheese.

And it spoiled.

One afternoon just moments before a newscast, a photographer with the sports show cancelled. Thus a shoot I had carefully set up with a coach and athlete disintegrated.

Bill freaked. I said, “I’m done. I can’t deal with this seconds before my newscast at my already stressful and busy fulltime TV gig. I should’ve gotten out ages ago. I can’t work 18 hour days.”

I didn’t entirely learn my lesson. There were other situations like a recent fulltime job and romantic relationships during which I knew the time had come to move on and forward. But gosh I kept holding on.

In the past nine months, I have learned to listen to my intuition and trust the Universe. Letting go is much easier and fulfilling.

It’s time for you to throw away your fake cheese too.