You know, acquaintances aged thirty-five to fifty on my Facebook, there was a time about six months ago when I feared to log-on, because when I did it would cost me anywhere from $5 – $50, depending on the closeness of our relationship and how many friends or family members we shared. Your sponsored runs and triathlons were ubiquitous, and my credit card bills were peppered with amounts donated to charity-collection companies whose names may as well have been JustGuilting, JustObliged, or MANDATORYYOURFRIENDISHAVINGAMID-LIFEWOBBLETAX.
I have noticed however that as the winter months have drawn in, I have no such requests on my timeline. And actually, now I look back, they reached a peak maybe two years ago and have been on a bit of a downward trend ever since. Much like your fitness levels, I don’t doubt.
And here’s me, sitting around with yes ok a bulging beer gut, but also bulging sacks of excess money waiting to be delivered to your charities of choice! So can I please request now that you drag your lazy asses out of bed and go run round a park or something?
Why the reluctance? Is it just the weather right now? Or are we done with the whole “health” phase? Male friends—grow a beard, eat organic food, run around capturing your distances on an app. I notice you still have the beards at least. Female friends—post second-baby, pre turning-forty, a quick and desperate rage against time and gravity? Dare I suggest guys that the fundraising was a secondary motivation?
C’mon! That was meant to motivate you! Get angry! Get up off that couch. Get out of Bed, Bath and Beyond this weekend and swim in that freezing lake!
I am literally throwing my disposable income down the drain. My Paypal transactions are mostly to seller Comics4U, and there’s nothing philanthropic about my runs to the mailbox to pick up yet another action figure. Hey—”action figure”—that’s like the opposite of you, LOL!
You’re really letting the fight against cancer down. Their hopes of funding are being blown away in the wind of your apathy like so many unsold, colored ribbons. Disease and poverty haven’t gone away, you know, even if you and your little neon short-shorts are missing from my timeline. It makes my heart hurt to think of all the money I’m not giving—and since my donations to heart disease research seem to have dried up, I guess we’ll all have to accept that I’ll be dead by 50: killed by your lethargy.
