'Dear Convenience'

January 18, 2008 (Originally posted)

Dear Convenience,

I hate to have this conversation via email but I find it's best to think about what I want to say before saying it. That way I have time to reflect on what I'm feeling and make sure I communicate those thoughts clearly.

So I'm writing you tonight to let you know that I can't see you anymore. I know this may come as a shock because things were going so well but I feel that it's the best thing for me right you. You see...even though you made my life easier during the time we shared, I realize now that you didn't have my best interests at heart. You made things too easy on me. I know that sounds like a good thing but trust me--it's not. I need to know how to do things for myself. For example: ever since we met, I find myself cooking less and less. I mean why would I? I have you there to do it for me. But I like to cook. I need to cook. I want to get better at it so I can teach other people how to do it for themselves too. I can't do that with you around all the time. And that's just what you do for me in the kitchen. Now look at exercise: you tell me I don't need to do that either--or at least I still need to but I don't have to if I don't feel like it. You get me to work and back everyday so there's no exercise there. And when I come home it's dark out or I'm tired from being at the office all day and you make it to easy for me to just ignore the things I need to do to stay healthy and tell me that I can just "worry about it later." Well later is here and I'm going to worry about it now.

Please forgive me for rambling a bit but that's because this letter is not easy for me to write. I mean, you've been with me practically my whole life. For as long as I can remember you've been there by my side, washing my dishes, keeping me warm and fed, getting me to work quickly and comfortable every day--but no more. From here on out I want to do things the 'hard way' or the 'old fashioned way.' I now know that my grandpa was right all along when he told me that when he was my age he had to walk to school, both ways, barefoot and in the snow. I think that made my grandfather the special person that he was and if could have half the character and resourcefulness he had, I'd consider myself lucky.

I'm sure you won't have any problem meeting someone new. There are loads of people out there looking for exactly what you have to offer. I'm sure you'll make someone really happy someday. I also hope that one day they too will learn what I now know--that having things done for you--cheaply, quickly and easily--is less of a blessing and more of a curse in disguise.

Take care and good luck,

Unknown Pleasures