I want to preface the rest of this writing by stating that I think bean bags are really enjoyable.

Maybe it’s because I like sitting on the floor. I don’t quite know why I like bean bags.

However, there is one bean bag that I have not quite enjoyed.

When Je and I moved into our current house we found a grey bag tucked into a corner of the outside of the house.

It stayed in that corner for a few months before we did anything with it because… well, we’re lazy.

I’m not sure as toi when it happened, but we eventually realised that it was a bean bag.

I didn’t think it was worth keeping around (possibly; I can’t quite remember), but we moved it into the backyard as an additional seat for people to use.

It spent the majority of its time sitting in another corner, only being used three times (although it was quite possibly less).

About a month ago it was moved to the front once more, right next to our bins.

Probably due to weather changes the fabric ended up weakening and the bean bag gained a tear and began to spill its foam balls.

Thankfully it was not too many as picking up the foam balls is one of the most annoying things I have done in my life at this point.

I asked Je to clean them up as he had the day off work and I did not.
He did a really good job.

So the bean bag was moved next to our bins before Je started cleaning up the foam balls.
Whilst moving the bag it kept on tearing at the lightest of grabs which proved to be its own source of frustration as it made the goal of not letting any more foam balls get out much more difficult than it should have been.

A month passed where I would only think of the bean bag on occasion, mainly trying to figure out how we would dispose of it without creating a mess.

Then yesterday happened.

The bean bag is still there.

More of its contents has managed to get out of its confines.

Fun times.

Due to where we have the bean bag positioned, it decided that it was going to let out more of the foam balls onto the footpath outside of our house, as well as a not-insignificant amount into our front area for the wind to blow around as it pleases.

I spent about twenty minutes trying to pick up the ones on the footpath.
Twenty minutes of picking them up and then having them spill out of my hand with no provocation whilst trying not to have my breathing or movement blow the foam balls around any more, as I discovered that they really like to move around and find the idea of being stationary an affront to their very existence.

In the end I was successful.

I do not like that bean bag.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 11:17:83

Longer than ten minutes, but I’m okay with it for some reason.

Written at home.