Your Instagram feed on Friday evening is a parade: festivals, weddings, first communions, concerts, getaways in the mountains. Your Saturday - coffee, a series, pauses. That's how "empty schedule syndrome" emerges - the feeling that everyone has a plan except you.

It isn't a clinical diagnosis. It's the term psychologists and neuroscientists use to describe something every one of us has felt: the quiet unease that appears when nobody invites you to anything, and the internet convinces you that you're missing something important.

Social media is a curated exhibition of selected moments. Nobody uploads a photo of themselves sitting at home and yawning. The brain doesn't filter this - it sees the parade and concludes that everyone is like that. From there the uncomfortable questions are born: is my life dull? Am I doing enough? Am I invisible?

Neuroscientists say the modern brain has forgotten the basic capacity for silence and for boredom. An empty schedule is no longer rest - it's an alarm. What previous generations called "Sunday afternoon" and "a visit to grandmother's", we now call emptiness.

The solution isn't to fill the schedule. The solution is to rediscover the boring weekend. A walk without earphones. A book without scroll breaks. Sleep. Cooking you won't post anywhere. Coffee with someone who doesn't pitch you anything but asks how you are.

In the Balkans this maybe weighs on us a little less than the Spanish or the Germans - we have neighbours, we have Sundays at the parents', we have the habit of sitting on the steps and talking nonsense for two hours. But the young here grow up on the same feed. The same exhibition. The same false bill saying that everyone except them has a plan.

Maybe it's time to bring back the old wisdom: that the most beautiful afternoons are the ones for which there isn't a single photograph.