The first time I heard about this new phnom FOMO it was announced by a new companion at a wedding shower lunch-in, “I’ve been diagnosed with the FOMO disease,” she exclaimed lifting the back of her hand to her flush face.
“Oh dear! Are you dying?” concern filled my mind.
She was not dying. She was afraid to miss out on a party, or gathering, or any social outing youngsters seem to partake in these days. But wait... this is todays ever plaguing first world problem? Perhaps missing out on a night of mingling with, and being, drunken hooligans?
If we can self diagnose these tragic symptoms, then I have one of my own. I my friends, am suffering from FOJI. Yes that is right. FOJI! Not to be mistaken with a blue edition Pokemon (cool fact: there are now over 600 characters in the Pokemon world. Hundreds more than I was able to trade as a child). Though back to my problems, this thing is really dangerous.
FOJI is a fear of joining in. It’s terrible. My palms get sweaty, my heart races. Just the thought of a party, or crowded room of people makes me want to throw up. One time I drove for 45 minutes in traffic just to sob in the parking lot of an art gallery and peace out like those One-Size fits all puff shirts we all wanted for that hot minute.
Where some would give the world to make it to every gathering ever thought up, I would prefer to spend me entire night giggling at the charismatic and straight edged characters of Duck Dynasty. Never going out again is preferred. And that is my problem.
It began at the realization of my awkward stance while trying to perform the act most call socializing. See, I’m no talent when it comes to mingling. Gliding around a packed bar usually consist of tripping into a corner seat and resorting to crazy eyes tracking every. Single. Person. Who walks past the man of wrist bands and X’s.
So what will be done to turn my FOJI into FOMO. As an ever rambling blog post ends, this does too: With a large blanket and a DVR full of fictitious reality TV. Lets be honest here, anyone missing out on those new AT&T commercials is missing out on the real meaning of life.
“But what about the animals... What, what will they be made out of?” If you don’t think that is marketing magic you are only kidding yourself.
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