I've heard about FOMO. I'm part of a large co-ed group of friends that have been together for years. We are all on one big email chain, which blows up our inboxes every day full of invitations to concerts, parties, events, and what not. Sometimes I go. Because it sounds fun. Sometimes I don't go. Either because I can't or I'd rather do something smaller/by myself. I don't have what the kids these days refer to as FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). At least not on a typical missed event. Lately, however....things are starting to shift a little.
I went on a "pub run" on Saturday. It was "Glam Rock" and everyone runs through half of the town dressed up and stopping at various bars to drink. I wore an acid-wash one piece under hideous jean shorts (young women are actually wearing these shorts for real right now which is REALLY disturbing, but I was thankful for the costume's sake). I had a couple of red bulls and rode my bike, brace and all, and even tore it up on the dance floor the best I could. There was a moment where I was holding my girlfriends' hands, hopping up and down, and belting out the words to some 90s one-hit-wonder, when I thought Wait. I'm totally NOT going to be able to do this in a week-ish. I'm going to miss out on cool stuff. I'm going to be left behind! I HAVE FOMO!
That was pretty much it. I just had this moment of sorryformyself-ness and just felt bummed! My creative workouts have continued, but even those won't happen after the initial slice of knife. And THEN. I looked at my bare toenails in my wedges and sure enough...that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I can't pain my own toenails, and I won't be able to get into anything but flip flops for some time.
First World Problems. I know. It's like. I'll be well fed. My mom will be here. Ginger will be here. Larry will CERTAINLY not think any less of me. I have awesome friends who will be more than helpful. I will likely be able to drive and get around after the first week. There's just really nothing awful and traumatizing happening here. Except that I'll miss out on going to the beach next week. Would I have gone to the beach next week? It's unlikely. But knowing that it's not even an OPTION has my FOMO radar buzzing. The advertisements on my social media sites are taunting me with hiking adventures and fast-paced contests of many sorts. I want to do all of them. Am I over-compensating or is this a far cry from a placebo and my life really will feel empty without 24/7 mobility and action? I don't know, my friends. I just don't know.
I went on a "pub run" on Saturday. It was "Glam Rock" and everyone runs through half of the town dressed up and stopping at various bars to drink. I wore an acid-wash one piece under hideous jean shorts (young women are actually wearing these shorts for real right now which is REALLY disturbing, but I was thankful for the costume's sake). I had a couple of red bulls and rode my bike, brace and all, and even tore it up on the dance floor the best I could. There was a moment where I was holding my girlfriends' hands, hopping up and down, and belting out the words to some 90s one-hit-wonder, when I thought Wait. I'm totally NOT going to be able to do this in a week-ish. I'm going to miss out on cool stuff. I'm going to be left behind! I HAVE FOMO!
That was pretty much it. I just had this moment of sorryformyself-ness and just felt bummed! My creative workouts have continued, but even those won't happen after the initial slice of knife. And THEN. I looked at my bare toenails in my wedges and sure enough...that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I can't pain my own toenails, and I won't be able to get into anything but flip flops for some time.
First World Problems. I know. It's like. I'll be well fed. My mom will be here. Ginger will be here. Larry will CERTAINLY not think any less of me. I have awesome friends who will be more than helpful. I will likely be able to drive and get around after the first week. There's just really nothing awful and traumatizing happening here. Except that I'll miss out on going to the beach next week. Would I have gone to the beach next week? It's unlikely. But knowing that it's not even an OPTION has my FOMO radar buzzing. The advertisements on my social media sites are taunting me with hiking adventures and fast-paced contests of many sorts. I want to do all of them. Am I over-compensating or is this a far cry from a placebo and my life really will feel empty without 24/7 mobility and action? I don't know, my friends. I just don't know.
You know how I know my FOMO is getting bad? It's elaborating into parts of my life that used to counteract FOMO. Oh you need an example? Fake and forced bloggers ALWAYS have an example. This past weekend I was introduced to House of Cards (it's nice to have television interests that don't involve 50 year old women screaming at one another, so this made me feel "with" society). Wow. It's really good. And addicting. I watched 5 episodes in one sitting with someone who has already seen every episode, so I wanted to make SURE I was following along. I started daydreaming about saying snappy and sassy one-liners similar to those that the young, female reporter says in the show yesterday when my FOMO broke out. Oh no, I'm having surgery next week. What if I watch HoC while I THINK I'm not loopy from the drugs/anesthesia, but really I still am and then I can't remember what happens in the episode and then I watch the next group of episodes a week later and can't connect the dots and miss the entire point of the series and fall behind and can never recover?!
Ya. Pretty sure FOMO is NOT supposed to involve television series. Usually that's the crap that I do while missing out on real-life events. But. Mine does. That "F" in FOMO could precede quite a few things in my life right now, actually. I have FONTW. You've never had that? It's Fear of Nothing to Wear. I get a flare-up every time I have one of these 6-strap braces as my primary dress-piece. Other F's? FOLA. That's right. FOLA. Fear of Losing Athleticism. Not just because of the surgery - no! But because my competitors (aka normal everyday people) will have a leg up on me! Literally. They will have been running and jumping and playing sports! Oh you haven't picked up that I'm competitive? I like to be GOOD at stuff. FOLA is really acting up here because I not only want to be good, I don't want to allow too much time for "others" to surpass me! This is NOT trivial nor is it unrealistic. This is life. This is happening. The F is really shoving its way into acronyms and other crevices that I had not imagined. FOOL. It's a real thing. Fear of Oncoming Laziness. FOOL. What if I really enjoy doing nothing and being nowhere? What will happen to me? Will I gain laziness like a bad habit? Will I not even desire to break out of my bedroom and conquer the world?! Let's be honest. Probably not, but I really wanted to use FOOL.
Tomorrow is my final pre-op check-in to make sure I'm ready for my big date with the scalpel next week. Dream big, blogees, I'm sure there's an anecdote in that waiting room ready for us!
Ya. Pretty sure FOMO is NOT supposed to involve television series. Usually that's the crap that I do while missing out on real-life events. But. Mine does. That "F" in FOMO could precede quite a few things in my life right now, actually. I have FONTW. You've never had that? It's Fear of Nothing to Wear. I get a flare-up every time I have one of these 6-strap braces as my primary dress-piece. Other F's? FOLA. That's right. FOLA. Fear of Losing Athleticism. Not just because of the surgery - no! But because my competitors (aka normal everyday people) will have a leg up on me! Literally. They will have been running and jumping and playing sports! Oh you haven't picked up that I'm competitive? I like to be GOOD at stuff. FOLA is really acting up here because I not only want to be good, I don't want to allow too much time for "others" to surpass me! This is NOT trivial nor is it unrealistic. This is life. This is happening. The F is really shoving its way into acronyms and other crevices that I had not imagined. FOOL. It's a real thing. Fear of Oncoming Laziness. FOOL. What if I really enjoy doing nothing and being nowhere? What will happen to me? Will I gain laziness like a bad habit? Will I not even desire to break out of my bedroom and conquer the world?! Let's be honest. Probably not, but I really wanted to use FOOL.
Tomorrow is my final pre-op check-in to make sure I'm ready for my big date with the scalpel next week. Dream big, blogees, I'm sure there's an anecdote in that waiting room ready for us!