Chore Wheel Blues.

Posted 1 year, 9 months ago at 4:03 pm. 0 comments

We have a chore wheel in our house.

Composed entirely of yellow and red card, and a pinch of uptight self-satisfaction, this overbearing abomination stands pinned to our otherwise handy kitchen corkboard.

You know the kind. Brown and speckled, usually covered with bills, shopping lists, notes to otherhousemates and cute jokes, they adorn the walls of many of the kitchens I’ve stepped foot in.

As if the theory behind chorewheel wasn’t horrifying enough stand-alone, the implementation of the horribly smug contraption was nil but an insult. Andrew and I returned from the gym, red faced and sweaty, only to be accosted by Steve in the kitchen, grinning widely and fumbling with thick, brightly coloured construction paper.

Puzzled and mildly interested, I looked over at the mess of red and yellow atop our bench and arched a well practised eyebrow. Taking the opportunity to introduce the fiendish tool at one of the only times I’ve ever been silent in my entire life, Steve thrust his contraption into the air triumphantly, proclaiming the wonders of the “chore wheel”.

I disliked the idea immediately. Not because of how outrageously anti-establishment I am (hurr), but beacuase of the outlandish restrictions we were soon to face. The introduction of the new housemate control regime. The original rules, while offensive, were almost acceptable. They stood as follows.

1. Do your chore by Sunday afternoon.

2. If your chore isn’t done by sunday afternoon, you have to pay $3 to the person who ends up doing the chore.

3. If you don’t do it two weeks in a row, the fee on the second week is $5.

At that point, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the arrangement. I mean, I’m a slackarse. $8 a fortnight and no having to do things around the house? Hell yeah.

Something was still niggling me though. I mean, why should I have to clean a room I don’t use? Fair enough if it were a room we all didn’t use together, but having to clean a common area that I didn’t make messy? Fuck that.

So I didn’t. I pretty much flat out refused. Steve didn’t like it. Steve disliked to the point where he took it upon himself to draw up a household charter to keep us in line. I’ll post it later.

He also made a slight modification to the rules. No chore? No internet access. Yeah, he made a rule that restricted access to a service we all pay an equal share in. I freaked the fuck out. Firstly because of my irrational reliance on the internet and secondly, noone has the right to take away a service that I’ve paid for, damnit. Shortly after, I buckled and started doing chores. Begrudgingly.

Curse you, chorewheel.