Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Lessons in Getting Real~#1

"F.O.M.O: Fear of Missing Out…”

Since I can remember I have had the worst case of F.O.M.O. known to man; it is characterized by a sour mood and stabbing pains in stomach. I have become rather adept at hiding my F.O.M.O from my friends, as it is rather unbecoming of a lady; but make no mistake it is alive and well and eating away at my insides.

Despite this fear, I have to get used to it. Considering I simply cannot be trusted to perform as a writer when recovering from my typical weekend antics means that missing out is about to be a part of my life. And in my continuing efforts to become (more) fiscally responsible, money spending has been scaled back; the result is the dreaded missing out. Even though I know that I need to get real and get my shit together, the transition has not been easy.

No matter how good it feels to wake up on a Saturday (and) or Sunday morning free of headache, nausea and guilt, ready to attack the weekend like a newlywed couple; I still love to go out, get ridiculous and wake up in the afternoon, smelling of stale alcohol and broken promises to myself. Despite the horrid visual, I have been known to miss that smell; case and point, this weekend. I stayed home all weekend, for the first time, going with my better judgment instead of against it, and sure as shit Sunday was full of stomach pains and, you guessed it, F.O.M.O. I had a total of 2 drinks Friday and Saturday, and I was nestled in bed by the hour of 1 am; I could barely believe it myself.

Although Sunday morning was filled with pangs of regret, upon opening my wallet to find money, the pangs subsided somewhat. And my life being a constant ebb and flow; this weekend’s low ebb of party is the perfect juxtaposition to next weekend’s heavy flow. She (yes the weekend is a she) is shaping up to be a weekend of old, the weekend life that I have come to love. We dj both Friday and Saturday night and drinks will surely be a flowing; so I will get to smell that sweet scent of disappointment once again.

Despite my kvetching I realize that a part of getting older is understanding the cost/benefit of my actions and making the adult decision. But I cannot tell you how hard it is to wake up to several text messages detailing how much I am missed at the party and the debauchery that is ensuing. Even though I know that I NEED my energy for writing and plotting my world dominance via the written word and not recovering from the weekend; sometimes all I WANT to do is hang out with my friends, eschewing the cause and effect pattern that is sure to take place. We just have so much fun together; it is not uncommon to have someone fall asleep completely only to wake up and rejoin the party, just because it is SO much fun.

Nonetheless, times are a changing (slightly).

I want to travel next year; truth be told I wanted to travel this year but that is NOT going to be the case. And I have no problem missing out knowing that sunnier and greener financial pastures are around the (very long and winding) corner. I still have lots of my twenties to enjoy; and quite frankly I don’t want to be penning this same piece 3 years from now, because I couldn’t get it together today. The thought of that gives me an even bigger stomach ache than weekend F.O.M.O. Plus, I have a feeling that there are many more lessons to come in the art getting real; so I had better get used to it.

Because this is only number 1.

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