fomo

My condition doesn’t just rob you physically, it steals your life.
November always makes me feel like a failure. Not only am I incapable of, and not terribly well disposed towards, growing a moustache to make it a charitable #Movember, but then #NANOWRIMO pokes up its clever, superior little head and makes me feel bad about my attempts to write as well.
7. You will eat less kebabs, which is good for so many reasons we don’t need to specify. 2. Not to mention, bankrupting us
We are turning into a society where technology is taking over our lives - men are on the Xbox and messing around with their gadgets, and us ladies are watching our favourite soaps. I totally get it - log fire, glass of wine and no make-up on is great! It's a bonus when you don't have to take it off later - happy days!
Watching my Snapchat feed, the green monster inside me began to make an appearance as I saw, what seemed like, EVERYONE at a much coveted event. I tapped through short clips of customised cupcakes, gorgeous selfies and perfect poses. Damn it, why wasn't I invited? Everyone looks like they are having SO much fun. All those smiles prove it right?
When I was growing up, my mother would torment me with words like 'balance' and 'moderation'. It just all seemed so boring at the time, but I guess the moral of the story is that she was (as per) quite right. It's good to feel scared occasionally, especially when it motivates action. But only when you can feel utterly unafraid later.
I'm sat in a coffee shop on Brick Lane, desperately trying, but failing to be productive. It's a Saturday in April, and the bitterly cold air is heavy with the sort of enticing energy that can only be formed when the scent of roasting beans, and the fulfilled promise of free wifi collide...
On the surface of things, it appears too easy to experience all the experiences, to feel all the feels, to dance all the dances, drink all the drinks, to gig all the gigs - to generally consume until your heart's content. But what happens when you think your heart is fully content?
On a night out, I'm one of those people who never knows when to go home. In fact, my FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) urges are