Things I pass on the walk from my front door to my computer: doormat, toolbox, hoover, coat, jackets, cardboard box, ironing board, telephone, spare key to mailbox, camera batteries on recharge, extension lead, small table, small change (sorted), pens, headphones, headphone case, keys, shoelace, metal washer, cashpoint receipt, torches, poppy, paperclip, cuddly puffin, wallet, work security pass, mp3 player, Oystercard, pocket map of London, one-day travelcard, box of unused business cards, HMV vouchers, cinnamon tic tacs, sixpence, quarter dollar, stressball, Tesco receipt, GPS device, air freshener, pairs of trainers, pairs of shoes, shoe cleaner, radiator, shoulderbag, envelope addressed to previous occupant of flat, bathroom, Christmas cards ready for recycling, plastic bags ready for recycling, kitchen, spare bedroom, small metal trolley filled with three years' worth of receipts, maps of Bow, DLR timetable, personalised numberplate, pair of trainers, pair of shoes, huge plastic bottle filled with copper coins, metal shelves, maps of London, cross-stitch map of Bedfordshire, cross-stitch Windsor Castle, London A-Z, magazines, Olympic Zone consultation documents, more magazines, dust, pile of CDs, postcards, plastic bag, pair of fluffy dice, painting of beech woods (that used to belong to my grandmother), lollipop, Museum In Docklands admission ticket, digital watch, graphic calculator, CD walkman, folder of information about my company's personal health plan, all the CDs I bought last year, free CDs given away with newspapers, pile of cassettes, Lemon Jelly's latest album, CD player, bedroom, post-its stuck to the wall, purple cushion my Mum knitted me when I was 11, blue floormat, chair, waste paper bin, thesaurus, digital camera, telephone socket, floppy disc, notebook, glass of water, jamjar containing folded-up names of London boroughs, memory stick, calendar.
