Of late, my life seems to be increasingly dominated by a phenomena, which by definition is not even applicable to my generation. And the more I consider myself to be above or beyond it, the more it seems to prove me wrong by making itself felt in a slightly more customized manner, one more befitting my age and stage in life.
FOMO, or the Fear Of Missing Out – I strongly believed was something governing only the lives of the teens and tweens today. A lot has been written about it, and a lot is discussed. How they don’t live in the moment, how they are forever doing a relativity analysis against the lives of their peers, and how social media is adding fuel to fire by making everything look even rosier with the Instagram filters.
But turns out, it’s not an age thing. It’s a life thing. And this, when you are supposed to be all settled and content in your 30s – what with that cushy job, and that beautiful house, that car, the wonderful spouse, that adorable baby, those exotic vacations, all that eating – the perfect life. So what else would you want? Or what exactly do you think you could be missing out on?
The answer is the little things that make up all these big things that your life is made of. There is just so much everyone seems to be doing all the time. And very conveniently, we look at all things collectively – like look at these people doing all these awesome stuff while we are managing so little with our time! So let’s do some more. And then when you do it, you have a chocobloc day/week/weekend, with not a moment to spare.
Let me give an example. The diwali weekend was supposed to be simple – clean up, do a rangoli, visit parents, visit some friends and done. But did you know that a colored rangoli takes 2 hours and a calloused finger to make? Did you know that if you decide to deck up in traditional wear and do the same for your daughter, it would take forever? No. So by the time the weekend was done, all things planned were ticked, but I was exhausted.
Which led the screw up of the week. I somehow missed reading the note on Zo’s diary, that we were supposed to send the kids in black/Halloween costumes to school on Monday. In fact, I did not realise till the Dude dropped her to the bus, and the few kids that did not bunk school were in costumes. My baby went in her school uniform. And when the Dude told me this, it pretty much ruined my entire day. Because 1) Bad mom 2)FOMO. I had missed out on my kid celebrating Halloween and the whole day I whined about how upset she was going to be.
When I picked her up in the evening however, she grinned and said “You forgot my costume!” I was pretty teary eyed and was cursing myself, when she said “My teacher put on the clothes you packed for daycare. You sent the shirt with the castle and the unicorn. So I was a story book for Halloween!” And she said this with just as much enthusiasm as she would have had if I had bought her an elaborate princess gown. Trust her to be the sensible one among us.
So basically, there went my theory about FOMO being an age thing. It’s a person thing. And unfortunately, it’s my thing too. Which would explain why – despite November being a crazy week with travel and client visits and other things to do, I decided on participating in this month long challenge anyway. I could not, for the world, miss out on something my entire blogging gang of yore was part of. So here I am with my first post.
Only 29 more to go.