The Case Against Chore Wheels

By Lev Novak

I have a room-mate, and we do okay. We get along and our apartment hasn’t broken yet despite a lack of a chore wheel. And that’s because we’re adults. Well, sort of. We’re learning to be adults, and part of that means growing pains. It means figuring out what needs to be done and doing it along the way.

It doesn’t mean a chore wheel.

A chore wheel is a throwback to childhood, and it works- begrudgingly, painfully. It reminds you and everyone, passive-aggressive in its bright, smiley colors, that chores have to be done. It holds you accountable, but do you want to be accountable? Do you want to really hold someone to buying toilet paper, to let that grudge hold, to not buy toilet paper because it’s technically not your job? Stop that. Grow up.

Scrap the wheel.

Let there be some mystery in your life; take it for granted that, eventually, you’ll take out the trash. Or maybe you won’t! Living in filth is a rite of passage, a sign of freedom. It’s delayed teenager living to have your own place and I still have empty baggies and diet Coke beside me. It’s kind of gross, and I’ll clean up after writing it (it just, of course, entered my mind) but I don’t need a wheel for that. I will do it when the spirit moves me, because that’s what adults do.

You have enough obligations in your life- why add more?

Of course it’s for your own good.

Everything is for your own good! Get a calendar, and include social events and the gym on it if you really want to make sure you’re cleaning when you should. That’ll cover cleaning and it’ll be much less inconspicuous than a brightly colored wheel taped to the inside of your door.

Gee whiz. Just don’t do a chore wheel.

Look, do you need to spin? Do you need to rotate and take perfect turns? No. Some people are better at certain things, or, at least, hate those things less. I hate washing dishes, but I will pick up (and pay for) communal items like toiletries, and, more importantly, late night snacks.

The ecosystem of your apartment will figure these things out for you! There is no need to get a piece of bright cardboard to sort things out to you, for you to argue and resent and worship like a savage God, dictating when and how things get done, and by who. Just do them. Or don’t. You’re an adult, dude!

A person’s apartment is their castle. And castles don’t have chore wheels.

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