I want to hang out with you.I do, I promise. When I suggest we grab dinner or tea or coffee or a breadstick or whatever they have at a buffet restaurant of your choosing, I’m not joking. I don’t believe in false plans, nor do I attempt to be your friend if I’d rather do the opposite. I love hanging out, and I like making friend dates. Too much, evidently, because here we are.I’m no stranger to burnout. Back in January, I wrote about how I learned to say no to too much work . Last year, I’d hit a wall, taking on too much of everything before realising my anxiety attacks were stemming from my lifelong compulsion to live excessively. I didn’t set boundaries, I worked until I was exhausted and panicky, and on top of my working week, I kept my social life thriving, telling myself I could do it all.Which, of course, is no anomaly. Last week, writer Devon Maloney opened up about her own tendency to do too much, stemming from lessons in Time Turners courtesy of Hermione Granger. She rightly stated that millennials are the most stressed generation so far, and that we’ve “grown from obsessive pre-teens into ambitious, extended adults.” It’s true – for the last month, my conversations with friends have been defined by our collective feeling that we’re strapped for time and totally exhausted, particularly as we attempt to Tetris our weeks into collages of productivity or Instagrammable moments.Because now that it’s getting nice out, we have to be out. We have to parlay dinners into evening and nighttime adventures, capitalise on patio and park availability, and pack as many events into the available hours as humanly possible. And to back out isn’t an option. Not if you want to be a good friend or live a full life or – and I hate myself for even typing this – if you want to “have it all.”Which I know is a myth. To do and to be “all” is subjective and unrealistic and the creation of a society that thrives on comparison. This is what I tried to remind myself of as I looked at blank spaces in my calendar and panicked, thinking I wasn’t doing enough, or being enough. So I’d chase away my gut feeling to avoid making plans and I’d gag it with even more, building a social life almost entirely founded upon living up to expectations that I’d created for myself, and subsequently avoiding any/all spring and summer-induced FOMO.And I’m sure we can all guess exactly how that went.