Well, if you have been getting my Snapchats (and I’m going to assume that, if you’re reading this, you’re either an immediate family member or someone in my top tier of close friends and therefore am on my direct Snapchat mailing list) you’ll know that FebMas has been and gone.

FebMas as a concept will be explained in my following post, as I wrote a column in last Wednesday’s paper about it in the hope Cliftonites would wish us a merry FebMas and maybe inspire the firies to go around town with their captain dressed as Santa handing out lollies to the kids. My general rule is not post a paper-printed column until the following week and I’m not just going to go breaking that rule because I’m too full of ham to bash out an actual blog post. Although, I am very, very full of ham, so do bear that in mind as you read on. The levels of salt and brine in my blood may impact my ability to talk about anything other than dead pig.

Long story short, FebMas is our family’s sliiiiightly later celebration of Christmas.

And we’ve just had it.

Which means there are few things to look forward to. When real Christmas is over, there’s New Year and my birthday and Hottest 100 countdown parties dangling ahead of you like a carrot – they’re enough to drag your softer, pumper, hammier body though the stinkin’ hot days. They’re just ahead on the horizon, assuring you that there’s something to live for after the festive odyssey is stuffed into an over-filled wheelie bin.

But with Febmas long after all those occasions, there’s not as many things to immediately look forward to. And when all you have a head of you for the coming weeks is a heck of a lot of back sweat, it’s easy to get disheartened. So I’m choosing to do something I rarely do: be positive.

I’m going to concentrate on the good things that lay ahead of me rather than sitting in a porky funk.

So here are three things I’m excited about for this week:

Kerbside collection pick up: This weekend is the weekend people can put out all their bulky, unwanted crap on the street for free collection by the Brisbane City Council. And people start early. So for the next few days, piles of assorted goods are going to grow on the streets, just waiting to be picked at.

I love free healthcare and I reckon super’s a pretty good idea, but I think my favourite perk of my civil membership is the kerbside collection pick up.

Aside from FebMas, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s excellent for residents without access to a ute or the motivation to go to the dump. But it’s also excellent for huge stickybeaks who like to rifle through other people’s discarded belongings and hoard them for themselves. People like me.

You find some really cool stuff at kerbside collection time. A few years ago, a friend and I drove around in my Camry picking up items to furnish her new share house and we found these odd geometric foam items we could only assume were from a sex therapist’s office. Of course we loaded them in my bulky sedan and put them under my mate’s new place, where they remained until her disgusted sister eventually got rid of them.

I love really cool stuff, especially when it’s free. And I’ve currently got a set of wheels that could transport some of the bulkier examples of really cool stuff.

But what I really love – maybe even more than really cool stuff – is going through other people’s  really cool stuff and try to work out what kind of life they lead. What kind of person they are, and what kind of person they want to become by throwing parts of themselves away. Just a quick glance at a pile of miscellaneous items can tell you so much.  But you have to look at the whole picture. A discarded ping pong table? That could be a miffed mother, clearing out all the crap her adult children left cluttering up what should be her craft room. A ping pong table and a collection of free merch from pubs? That’s a fellow who decided his frat boy days were behind him and it’s time to be a chino-wearing man.

Not only do you get to know intimate details about your neighbours, but you also score a free beer pong table out of their quarter-life crises.

Valentines Day: As someone whose only significant other is a piece of headgear made out of dead rabbit, you could assume that this day would be a sad time. But what it has essentially morphed into is an indulgent self-care day where you do nice things for yourself because you love yourself. We now live in an age where apparently telling yourself over and over that “you’re enough” is enough, and that means that you can reframe having no one to love as an empowering decision to commit to yourself.

As a millennial, Valentines Day means I get to spend the whole day thinking about myself (which is slightly different to every other day, when you think about the planet… but purely because you’re thinking of the way you’re going to be personally impacted by climate change and how much of a good person you look like by recycling).

I’m probably going to buy some indoor plants, light a scented candle and send uplifting, supportive text messages to my friends.

Junior cattle judging: So, The Clifton Show is on this weekend, but not only do I have to work both days, I also have a very important engagement party to attend (I mean, they’re top tier people, but the pig on the spit was what really sold it to me).

So, for another year in a row, I’m going to miss The Show.

However, I am lucky enough to have Friday off, meaning I have the morning to go down and watch the junior cattle judging at my leisure.

And this is a real treat. For those who have not witnessed this fantastic spectacle, it’s a competition where grown ups judge kids on their judging skills.

The contestants are faced with four potty calves and have to rank them from first to last, justifying their answers. It’s extremely entertaining.

I’m going to wear my hat. I’m going to stand around with my hands on my hips. I’m going to ask people how much rain they got the other day. It’s going to be brilliant.

Plus, the dagwood dog guy will have probably set up by that time, so I’ll be able to eat a deep fried hotdog for breakfast.