Will Someone Please Burn My Chicken?

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I don’t know how else to say it so I’ll just say it. I can be a chicken from time-to-time. I don’t like it. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am and I don’t want to be.

There’s so much I would do if I didn’t have chickenitis.

What-would-you-do

  • I’d try my hand at broadcasting again, a television or radio talk show for sure.
  • I’d open up a pie business selling sweet and savory hand-held pies.
  • I’d host fabulous events for women that helped them spirit, soul, and body and provided free stuff Oprah-style.
  • I’d publish the children’s book I wrote several years ago.
  • I’d run for political office.
  • I’d charge a fee to teach artists, athletes and preachers how to speak correctly and in a more relatable/marketable way, especially when speaking to the media.  
  • I’d travel across country starting in Mobile and ending in LA.
  • I’d learn to dance (line dance, stepping, ballroom, tap, you name it. I’d be a dancing machine!).
  • I’d be a wedding DJ.
  • I’d ride the roller coaster at Six Flags that scared the living day lights out of me when I was six years old.
  • I would learn to swim.
  • I’d get another degree in Counseling or Human Resources.
  • I’d write a book about my life, especially the last fifteen years.
  • I would live on a yacht for a month.
  • And the list goes on.

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Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against chickens, just being chicken. I realized through research that chickens can only fly so high. I don’t want my chickenitis to be the cause of me never really making it off of the ground. If I have wings I won’t them to work! So there you have it. I don’t want my chicken. It serves me no purpose, and actually robs me of my purpose. So I figuratively ask, will someone please burn my chicken?

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@AngelaMMoore316

2 thoughts on “Will Someone Please Burn My Chicken?

  1. Man, after reading this it made me look at my own chickenitis, and how, I, too, associated divorce with failure…… When in fact divorce gave me the ability to learn about my own strengths, and truly come to understand that GOD is my Jehovah Jireh (GOD, my provider)……..Yes, little-by-little, I’m frying that chicken within.

    Vickie

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