With the June Bank Holiday underway and Slane, Forbidden Fruit and the Life Festival in full flight, you're either there having a ball or you're stuck at home, reading Twitter and entertainment sites - hoping that something horrible will befall the people there.

Welcome to FOMO. FOMO is a real-life medical condition that causes bitterness, anger, misery, fatigue and general hatred towards those who get to go to summer festivals.

Here is a scientifically-proven list of the symptoms and stages of FOMO.

Stage 1 - "Hah, I'm going to save so much money!"

That's right, losers. Feck off down to Laois and stand in a field with other losers and listen to bands you've never heard of but are going just because it's the done thing. I'm staying here with my money. Look at it. My money. I'm being smart and thrifty. You're splurging it on watered-down drink and ridiculous headpieces that you'll never wear. Oh, did you spend €45 on a portable iPhone charger! HAH! I'VE GOT ONE RIGHT HERE.

When you think about how much money you're going to have by NOT going to Slane / Forbidden Fruit / Life Festival / any festival

 

When you check your balance on Monday and it's pretty much what you'd have spent if you went...

 

Stage 2 - "Well, at least town is quiet..."

You can head out to your favourite nightclub, bar, whatever - and find it comfortably filled. It's not too busy, sure, but it's nice and relaxed. It's not heaving, but, y'know... it's not busy either. Which is nice, for a change. Maybe you should start looking for places that are a little less jammed, right? Nobody likes being claustrophobic. I bet it's claustrophobic in the Bacardi Tent right now...

 

 

Stage 3 - "I didn't even want to go, actually."

Hozier? Pfft. I can see him whenever. Simple Minds? You'd want to be Simple to sit through David Byrne and a bunch of people in white suits playing the soundtrack to Wall Street. Oh, what's that? Portishead? 1993 called. Sure half the bands I wanted to see are actually going to be playing later this year in a much better venue than a field in Inchicore. So, like, whatever, spend all your money travelling down - if you're REALLY into music, you'll wait for them to play on their own. D'uh. Obviously.

"No showers for three days? Yeah. No."

 

Stage 4 - "Well, y'know, maybe there's some decent acts there..."

Well, like, I wouldn't MIND seeing them. But, y'know, that's it. And, y'know, Stranglers. They're cool. Oh, Dimitri From Paris is playing? I... I didn't know that. I'd... I'd have liked to see that.

When you see that band / DJ is playing you wanted to see three months ago but didn't because Game of Thrones was on...

 

Stage 5 - "Right, well, it's done now. I can't go. Can I?"

You find yourself staring off into the middle distance as you think of those really starchy pies that everyone eats. You imagine yourself covered in mud and your voice hoarse. You see yourself strolling around in two-day shorts with a pint of something foreign before 11AM. You're smoking festival cigarettes - Lucky Strike, for example - and you don't even smoke. You know you've made the wrong decision. But you're living with it, right? You didn't want to go. No, you're being responsible. That's it. Responsible. You made the right choice. You didn't want to go... you didn't.... want.. to go...

"You should have come with us! You missed out!"

 

Stage 6 - "Welcome to FOMO-ville. Population YOU."

You're quietly looking around to see if anyone's heading down Sunday. You've tweeted somebody who's looking to get rid of a ticket on the sly. You've packed a bag in case you hook up with someone and decide to stay over. If you leave now, you'll just about make Outkast. Right/ Right?! WE CAN STILL MAKE IT, YOU GUYS. DON'T GIVE UP ON ME. I'M COMING. I'LL RING WHEN I'M AT THE MIDWAY, YEAH? COOL CHEERS SEE YOU IN A BIT YAAY

 

But we know that's all there is. Just dreams and wishes. You have FOMO. The only treatment is to brush off the feeling and content yourself with the fact that your friends are going to be in bits the next day. You, on the other hand, can stand over them whilst they cower in their damaged state and laugh.