Dear Check List,
I’ve decided we need to invest a little more in our former close friendship. I’ve neglected you far too long. My piles of laundry, unemptied trashcans, and messy living room can attest to the fact that you have been missed.
I know we used to best of friends. Your check boxes brought me a touch of joy every time I ignored the box and scribbled through the whole darn item (since, goshdarnit, I DID do that and I’m proud of this fact). (I don’t know why I even bother with the boxes.) But these past few months you became too demanding and therefore once I no longer had the absolute need to be orderly and do all the things I dropped you without asking for a “by your leave”.
I have come to the conclusion that I was wrong and I hope you’ll forgive me, but I rebelled every time I saw those lists filled with things like “wash the diapers”, “write a 500 page essay about Black Elk” and sundry other items. You may not readily understand (though I know many who will), but I wanted freedom from you and your endless demands.
You will be glad to hear that I have grown tired of being at odds with you. My life just isn’t the same. The pretext of control I get by being friends with you, oh Mr. Checklist, is something I can’t seem to do without. So I’m going to work to revive the relationship we once had. However, there will be rules for this newly rekindled alliance. In order to assure our mutual satisfaction with this union, I am listing my Rules for Checklist Association.
- You must not tell me when I am to brush my teeth. Such displays of control will not be allowed. This and similar nit-picky activities will result in the immediate severance of our friendship.
- I will not have you telling me exactly what I must do on any given day at any given moment. You will limit yourself to gentle reminders aiding my mommy brain in remembering the things I must do in order to not go crazy (i.e. lying disconsolately on the bed eating chocolate bemoaning my entire existence but very much enjoying the chocolate).
- You shall not give me any assignments that seem like school. You’ll have to understand my need for a reprieve.
- You will be kind.
- You will remind me to set a timer every time I close the oven in hopes of reducing the number of items I bake into oblivion.
- You are not allowed to make mention of things that are supposed to be fun. (If listing takes control of my better judgment and I deem it necessary I may befriend a different sort of list for that task. Please try not to be jealous if said list and I are better friends.)
- You will assist me in being accomplished, beautiful and keeping house without any recompense except my company on the daily page.
- You will forsake your tendency to be neverending and leave me with a concise list of the completely necessary.
- And finally, I wear the pants in this relationship. And the skirts. And anything else that gives me the final say. Be ye warned. And submissive.
I hope this missive has found you well and that I have stated clearly the purpose of rekindling ( but hopefully not reburning) our previous attachment. Thank you for your willingness to bring guidance and structure to me life and please consider my plea as a compliment to your efficacy.
Give my regards to your mother and father. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Your (Ex) Best Friend,
The one who scribbles on your face.