Originally published December 15, 2019
Last updated December 16, 2019
Posted in 

  • Dahon 7 speed folding bike, in reasonable working order. Purchased with dreams of vacations by V-Line coach, never used for said purpose.
  • Two lawnmowers, somewhat functional though noisy and stink-belching. I’ll always appreciate the kindness of the people who gave them to me.
  • A king-sized sheet, blue cotton, purchased in mistake for a double-sized one, and not returned within the 28 day window.
  • Three dozen eggs, collecting gradually in the fridge as I haven’t seen my housemate for a week and a half.
  • My Etsy wishlist, preferably by acquiring all the items on it.
  • Three rosemary bushes, quite advanced, self-propagated in my front yard. I guess the urge to survive and reproduce is strong.
  • Two large clumps of lemon balm. I wasn’t paying attention and they got out of control.
  • The soil in the place where a hole should be.
  • The hole I can’t fill in until I’ve contacted the government.
  • The contents of eight bottles of cherry-plum mead, brewed experimentally, turned weirdly sludgy.
  • A big pile of dirty dishes, as usual.
  • So many little ziplock bags, to be filled with seeds and given away.
  • About half an inch of hair on my head.
  • The cracks in my heels.
  • A splinter in my left pinkie, which I can’t get out and worry might get infected.
  • Two (2) breasts, preferably by magic/without surgery.
  • Something stuck in the tube of my vacuum cleaner, preventing it from fulfilling its purpose in life.
  • My unpaid taxes.
  • The elm-seeds that blew everywhere in spring, got into the laundry, and are clustered in a dirty heap down the side of the washing machine.
  • A lot of miniature capsicum seedlings, orange and chocolate. Ready to plant now.
  • Codling moth.
  • Several things I bought online, impulsively, and which are the wrong size or colour or broken or never worked.
  • The regret I feel over those impulse purchases.
  • Whatever’s preventing me picking up the phone to make an appointment.
  • A large mirror with a wooden frame, currently sitting awkwardly on the back porch.
  • Clothes that are too big, but it feels like tempting fate to let them go.
  • A jar with a label that won’t soak off. I give up. And yet, recycling it is a surprisingly complex endeavour these days.
  • These Christmas cards I meant to send already.
  • Scott Morrison.
  • Shame.

Alex Bayley is a tech industry refugee, independent researcher, writer, educator and community builder. They live in Ballarat, west of Melbourne, Australia.

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