 Last week I dragged a couple of bin bags full of unwanted clothes to the Salvos. The bags were those purple scented ones that smell like lavender. I held one overloaded bag in each hand, willing them not to break in my weak arms as I crossed the highway before the lights changed. I think I prefer the yellow, citrus scented bags but the lavender ones were the only ones on special last supermarket shop. Some guy yelled out at me from his car as I trundled along, I think it was something to do with my breasts, not his choice of citrus versus lavender.
That same day I also crammed a heap of rubbish and recycling into the wheelie bins in the garage. As I sat rifling through boxes in our storage cage downstairs for items to chuck, I laughed as I rediscovered stuff including a folder full of Wikipedia printouts on random subjects, boxes from items I don’t own anymore and two broken unfashionable handbags. Why do I keep this shit? Was I going to mend these handbags? No chance.
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