The Broken Fat Chick: who I am...

Thursday, January 20, 2011

who I am...

Rather...who AM I?

As it turns out, there isn't a simple answer for this anymore. I have to do a speech in my public speaking class, and choose 3 object that represent me in some way, and breifly explain why. I am finding it REALLY hard to do. Obviously the Kid is choice 1, and my Tigers bag is a given (we have to pick a bag that is special and means something and represents us in some way and then explain how/why)...I'm finding it hard to find just TWO items that represent me...

It shouldn't be THAT hard should it!?!?

I'm more than a mom and a Tigers fan......
aren't I?????

I've narrowed it down to a journal for one of the two items left, because it helps me vent, and I love writing, i believe in the art of the written word (HELLLOOOOO English Teacher in the works here!! lol)...etc...

I'm finding it super hard to find a third item that represents me...I initially thought about flip flops and doig a summer theme, but the Tigers bag will do that already and we can't have an item represent more than one "thing"...

WHY is it this hard!?...

What do you think would be three things that represent you???

2 comments:

AnonymousJanuary 20, 2011 at 1:54 AM
I'd say for me it would be my Bible, my husband, my blog :)
ReplyDelete
Replies
WondraJanuary 23, 2011 at 3:26 PM
Omg! I just made this big, long post and then when I went to comment, my IE crashed. Stupid IE!
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Why Broken?

I'm not refferring to being broke, as in without money, (even though I am this too), I'm refferring to broken: reduced to fragments; fragmented ruptured; torn; fractured. not functioning properly; out of working order. weakened in strength, spirit, etc. Mainly I'm talking aout not functioning properly...my body doesn't do that. I have PCOS and while it's not technically an auto-immune disorder...it sure as hell acts like one. And it makes life a living hell some days. It makes me not fun to be around some days. It makes me feel like I'm crazy on some days. It makes me feel ugly. It makes me feel useless. It makes me feel worthless. When you're body is attacking itself and making itself sick it's hard to feel anything but broken and worthless. It's even harder to feel good about yourself when you are going through a divorce and realize that now you have to try to find someone else that's going to love you for the broken person that you are, regardless of how badly you'd like to be the full, vibrant, properly working version of yourself. So really, broken fat chick started as a joke, but it's a truthful joke. If you don't get it, don't read it! :)