SO I walked into Woolworths the other day to buy some tomatoes and thought I might apply for a job.
If you're laughing, you know the hot story about South Africa's favourite bling-bling shop. And if you're not, then you don't have FOMO and I wish I was you.
See, everybody else is writing about Woolies and giving their two cents' worth of opinions this week. And because I have cents to share too, and I'm a writer, I have to write about their "controversial", "affirmative action" recruitment policies as well, because everybody else is.
But I'm not going to do that, because I have several opinions that don't count.
Plus, I actually buy tomatoes at my local Spar, since there's a friendly Spar wherever you are.
Anyway, I've mentioned Woolies now, so I'm on trend. I'm "with it" and I'm current. I have shown my deep intellectual skills and interest in the world at large.
I am, as a result, an important person and will be able to debate at braais.
But really, the truth is that I've always had a little FOMO. It's super-sized into an uncomfortably large bit of FOMO over the past year, because I had a baby and don't "do" babies very well.
Therefore, I don't go out much, except in large groups with other mummies, all of whom remind me that I'm far better with teenagers and stress too much about anyone shorter and slightly more emotionally-challenged than a dining room table.
Mental health expert John Grohol says that my FOMO is pretty normal, by average standards, but that the planet generally is experiencing an unhealthy outbreak of FOMO-related stress that is really utterly pointless and not a little worrying.
See, FOMO – or "fear of missing out" – is only a real problem when you actually get up off your chair, slap on lipstick and rush from cocktail do to ladies' lunch in a blind panic, terrified that you're not going to be invited again or might miss the random salaciousness always served, along with the wine, at any gathering of girls.
I am not a FOMO addict, but many are. And they're not all teenagers!
Grohol says people who send text messages while driving, or interrupt one call to take another (even though they have no idea who it is) or who stop you talking in order to answer their phones, or who frequently leave early to get to another shindig on the same night – halfway across town – are true-blue FOMOS. And we're getting worse.
The problem is that, in years gone by, I knew what you were doing only because I happened to be doing it too, or I found out a few months later.
Now, you'll tell me, minute by minute, what you're up to and if you haven't invited me, or you have but I think I can't come, FOMO will emerge, like a thief in the night, stealing my sleep and self-composure.
"We are so connected with one another through our Twitter streams, our Facebook and LinkedIn updates, that we can't just be alone anymore," says Grohol.
"It's not interruption, it's connection. But wait a minute, it's not really 'connection' either. It's the potential for simply a different connection. It may be better, it may be worse – we just don't know until we check."
I'm not sure I like this FOMO thing.
But I'm darned if I'm turning off Facebook to avoid it. Because you just never know, do you?