composition complex

I’m starting to develop a complex about how much I appear to weigh. I have had at least a dozen people (no exaggeration, folks—I’ve kept count) tell me how much weight I appear to have lost recently. This is false. I may have dropped numerical pounds, but I’m much less fit/toned, as I have not visited the gym in about a month. I ate just fine during the bout with pneumonia, so unless I have contracted some sort of body-mass-eating fungus or tapeworm, there is no good explanation for this. I suppose I could appear less beefy, but I don’t think I was beefy before. But maybe I was

It is now 6:05 p.m. and I am preparing to leave the office after tying up the loose ends on DU’s April E-newsletter—coming to an e-mail inbox near you, if you’re signed up! If not, you should subscribe now! I design them, write some of the content and make some of the graphics…just sayin’. PLUS, you get a free DU decal just for signing up. Unsubscribe at any time (though you may want to ask me directly to put you on the blacklist if you’re really desperate to stop the e-mails—the unsubscribe feature doesn’t always work).

I received a free license plate holder in the mail today from the people behind the Hot Dish Facebook app. (It’s an app for those concerned about global warming and the environment, for those of you who have no desire to give them access to your life.) I keep getting notified that I am “among the top points earners for the week,” and they offer me free stuff. I haven’t done a single thing with the app since adding it, so this is patently false. But I’ve received $10 in Fandango bucks (though I can’t find a movie theater nearby that accepts them…) and this license plate holder, which reads, “My other car runs on two feet…” (mmm, advertising). I also tried to redeem my free Hot Dish T-shirt, but that hasn’t shown up yet. Seriously, Hot Dish folks—get on that!

I may be going to my first-ever Memphis Grizzlies game tomorrow night with a coworker, assuming he managed to get some other people interested. Apparently he somehow acquired 20 tickets to the game, so if he’s able to get a group together, we’ll go. If not, we’ll go to trivia at the bar, which we should be doing anyway so we don’t fall too far behind and lose our shot at the city-wide semi-finals! I may nudge that fear into his brain just in case he doesn’t realize it…

All right, it’s now 6:10. I’m leaving. Peace.


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