I usually like to rant about things I hate in my ramblings and if on the off chance I do wax on about anything in a positive light, those remarks are usually restricted to the subjects of cups of tea or carb-based food items.

When I think of columns I need to bash out quickly, it’s much, much easier to spew on about stuff that really gets up my proverbial goat than to say anything positive. So, staring down the barrel of an empty Word doc with the sunlight gently illuminating the leave outside my window, I decided to make a list of things that I think are nice. To make things even trickier, I banned myself from listing anything that is edible. This is what I came up with:

Having a shower after a night out: I love being clean. I love smelling like soap. I really enjoy not feeling as if I have the spores from someone’s bad breath and countless rank cigarettes lodged in my pores. It’s fantastic.

And I have this thing about not wanting to bring the filth of the outside world into my bedroom… well, at least not tracked in my dirty shoes.

I like my bed to feel as if it is crisp and clean, and that requires me to quarantine myself before entering. I remember reading something someone wrote in a magazine years ago about not wearing your street clothes – and I’m talking outdoor wear, so yes, your fluffy cardigan can be considered street clothes – on your clean bed. And good heavens did that throwaway anecdote stick.

Because, think about it, if you put your dirty, scum-caked body into a sheath of blankets and mattress, you’re trapping in all that yuck. The grottiness will have nowhere to go. And you’ll probably sweat a little bit because you’ve been overzealous with the blankets. So you’re essentially marinating yourself in your own filth.

No one, particularly me, wants that. So I hose myself off before I slide into bed, the only stank radiating off me being the smell of smugness.

Beating the system: Ok, so I’ve gone down into a spiral of thriftiness and, to be honest, it’s long over due. I was in the supermarket the other day and realised that the loose leaf spinach in a serve-yourself-container was like five bucks a kilo cheaper than the pre-bagged gear.

So I grabbed an empty veggie bag, got down on my knees and started scoopin’, chuckling to myself about how I was shrewd enough not to be swindled by the grocery fat cats who thinks people are too lazy to scoop their own spinach.

And look, I probably would never get a file kilo of spinach so the savings are probably in the order of a the cost of a Chomp bar, but it fills me with a deep satisfaction knowing that I’m no sucker.

Chats with strangers: Look, I’m going to be honest with you, I love me a good chat. Like, banter with the beb behind the counter at the supermarket or nice, safe remarks about the weather at bus stops. I love exchanging quips with Joe Blows and Old Mates. It always puts me in a great mood.

You see, I have a background in customer service, which means I spent years working at Hungry Jacks having to be pleasant to people. I was often super tired from starting at 5am or hungover and learned to operate on autopilot, having trained myself to have a pleasant default setting I could switch on when the light behind my eyes went dark. I also was reared as a girlfolk, which means I was conditioned to be polite and amiable to everyone even if I didn’t feel like it.

So when I talk to people I don’t know, I automatically switch into this affable persona and start chatting away. Even if I’m not in the mood. Even if I’m exhausted. Especially if I’m hungover.

But even though I may be howling and scowling on the inside, my institutionalised I’m-a-nice-girl mode gives off this appearance that I am, indeed, a nice girl.

And this makes me believe that, despite all the cursing and dank thoughts ricocheting abound my brain, I might actually be a nice girl. That’s pretty nice.

PS: there’s no illustrations yet because I decided to be a super Positive Polly and go for a gentle jog in the sunshine this morning and now I have Sunday errands (i.e. a family lunch) to get to. But, if you’re lucky, I might just smash some out later this arvo. Come back later, because the more visits you make, the more views I get in my WordPress bar graph and, to be honest, I could really do with the self-esteem boost that would provide. 

PPS: I guess you got lucky.