That crazy Eden lady has reignited her Fresh Horses Brigade meme and I thought I’d jump on and go for a ride. This week – after a particularly snarky, nasty and down-right malicious time in Australian blogging – she’s asking the question, who the hell are you. It seems fair enough. Her post is here. Giddyup.
Who the hell am I?
I laugh loud.
I cry easily. I cry a lot.
I think I’m pretty funny.
I have a big heart.
I am a worrier but more about the big things – public policy, that Tony Abbott could possibly be our Prime Minister, the growing divide between the haves and the have-nots and the long term societal impact poverty has on a community and indeed a nation.
I am a complete stresshead. Always have been.
I have finely honed skills at self-sabotaging me in whatever my latest endeavour or idea. ‘You’re not good enough’ is set in my foundations. I’m re-stumping as we speak.
I am a really good home cook.
Baking makes everything better.
I have three main life mottos: “onward”, “fall down seven times rise up eight”, and “no one gets left behind”. I’m considering adding “stop being sad and start being awesome” to my mantra rotation list.
I am very easily swayed by others opinions and suggestions:
– Exhibit A: I always wanted to be a journalist but changed direction to PR when one very jaded editorial assistant on Cosmopolitan magazine told me to because it was better money.
– Exhibit B: We decided to have a baby because the naturapath I was seeing did some colour selection thing with me and I kept choosing purple. Apparently that was my subconscious telling me I wanted a baby.
I have some really trashy tendencies when it comes to food: jam rollettes, finger buns, that fluffy white icing on boston buns and tea cakes, MOCK CREAM. I’ve had a craving for a chiko roll for about 15 years but am too embarrassed to ask for one, even at the greasiest take-away shop I would never visit again.
I don’t cope very well in being left out. I am a chronic over-sharer and take it very personally when people do not return the favour. Got a secret? Got a plan you’re hatching? I must know. I NEED to know. Even if it’s not appropriate for me to know. I think this can also be called ‘trust issues’.
I can get very jealous of others and their success. I’m getting better at remembering to simply be the best I can be.
I’m on the verge of becoming one of those people who regales you with their fitness regime.
I’m turning 40 this year and while I’m not dreading it I’m not particularly looking forward to it. I’ve always had a feeling of not having enough time. Now I feel like I’m running out of it. It’s subtle but different.
How’s that for starters?
So who the hell are you?