Fear of No Plans to Cancel

Every month we invite our readers to pitch us articles on a theme revealed in our regular newsletter. Find out what our next theme is by subscribing to our newsletter below. This month we went with the theme ‘cancelled plans’ and Lorna-Rose Treen caught our eye with a new problem that is no doubt spreading like wildfire, forget FOMO, how about fear of no plans to cancel? Never fear though, Lorna-Rose shared her solution…

I’ve started to grow jealous seeing everyone’s posts over the last few months. The invitations uninvited. The organisations un-organised. The parties un-partied. I have got a new variant of FOMO – FOMO of cancelling plans. I’ve nothing to cancel. Except all men, because I am a feminist.

I urgently needed to keep up appearances that I was also a busy, popular, and good-looking person, whose life suddenly had to be put on hold.  So I panicked and started lying. 

The first was a single tweet. 

‘I am deeply sad to announce the cancelation of my imminent wedding.’  

It was foolproof. There’s no evidence (online) that I’m incapable of love and will never marry. But then it escalated. I tasted disappointment and wanted more. 

I sent a mass email listing “all” “the” “events” “I’m” “sadly” canceling. I BCC’d (not a rookie)  everyone I’ve ever met. 

“Dear colleague/employer/employee/no.1 crush Jason Isaacs/HMRC/mum,  

Hope you don’t mind the mass email, I haven’t got time to personalise as I’m very busy unbusying myself. *Hacks gunky throat clear, in a hot girl way*  

It’s with a heavy (definitely capable of love) heart that I’m writing to inform you that sadly, I will not be:  

• Joining Benny, Björn, Frida, and the other one, on the upcoming ABBA tour due to my hologram having contracted virtual COVID and virtually isolating in the metaverse. 

• Appearing in tonight’s West End production of Les Mis. Or tomorrow night’s. Or the night after that. This is not because I’ve not been cast and/or auditioned. It’s because my vocal  range is so good it’d (to quote Cameron Mackintosh) “shame the other Val Jeans and Anne  Hathaways.” Forget soprano. More like sopranWHOAH. Alto? More like AltWHOAH. Bass?  More like great (b)ASS. (Still quoting Cameron Mackintosh.)  

• Hosting my annual clairvoyant conference, due to unforeseen circumstances. 

• Flying around the world solo. I was planning to beat 19-year-old Zara Rutherford as the youngest woman to complete it, but I simply felt too sorry for her. Flying’s all she has. It’s all her aviating parents have. I’m not a monster. I can’t take that away from them when I’ve got loads going on for me. She can have the flying thing.  

• Throwing my Birthday party in my office/house/Downing street (winky-face). And thirty other people are not invited (winky-face). And you are definitely NOT invited interior designer Lulu Lytle (winky-face, winky-face). There will be NO Co-op suitcase of wine, and NO nibbles, not even those tiny cheese biscuits in the shape of smiley faces, (winky-face).  

• Celebrating my daughter’s third birthday celebrations. Or my daughter’s second birthday celebrations, my daughter’s first birthday celebrations, or the birth of my daughter. Because I do not have a daughter.  

• Launching my space program, SpaceWHY. Because what’s the point? 

• Opening my Mr. Bean-themed theme park. It was a good idea in practice, but messy in actualisation. Several beans got hurt. Several children got hurt. 

• Doing my taxes. Because I do not want to do them.  

Yours sincerely,  

Your comrade/employee/boss baby/Jason Isaacs’s GF/This woman actually died four years ago and the dead are tax exempt, please remove her from your database/your daughter,  

Lorna.”  

This email worked. I didn’t receive any speculative replies. Actually didn’t receive any replies. People were clearly in awe at my busy, popular, and good-looking life. 

Please feel free to forward the email to your own (BCC’d) contacts. You can change my name to yours, your crush, or to whoever it is you TikToking kids fancy these days.