周围的人见面最常用的问候语是：“最近忙什么呢？”有人可能会说“瞎忙”，有人可能会很实诚地给你列出一堆他/她正在忙的事情。总之，大家都很忙。
Moaning about one's schedule has become, for some, a mark of social status. We're not speaking here about the kind of busyness associated with scraping by near the poverty line, of course, but rather the kind associated with lives of material privilege. For instance, when you ask a colleague for assistance, he/she may reply like this:"I would like to help but cannot. I am desperately trying to finish a screenplay and a talk I need to give in Milan." Let's call this phenomenon 'busy-bragging'.
对某些人来说，抱怨自己的日程有多满已经成为一种社会地位的象征。我们这里说的忙并不是那些挣扎在贫困线上忙着谋生的人，而是与具有物质优越感的人有关。比如，你找一个同事帮忙，你听到的回答可能是：“我很想帮你，可是不行啊。我正忙着写一个剧本，还有一个要在米兰演讲的讲话稿。”我们把这种现象称为“炫忙”。
The interesting but thorny thing about busy-bragging is that most of us who engage in it aren't doing it consciously to impress others. Those busy feelings are absolutely real. That's why it is also known as busyness epidemic.
而“炫忙”这件事很有意思又颇具讽刺意味的地方在于，我们绝大多数说忙的人并不是为了让别人重视自己而故意说忙的。我们忙碌的感觉是很真实的。因此，这种现象也被称为“忙症”。
Data on leisure time suggests we’re not much busier than we were, yet we feel busier, partly because – for “knowledge workers”, anyway – there’s no limit to the number of emails we can get, the demands that can be made of us, or the hours of the day we can be in touch with the office. Work feels infinite, but our capacities are finite, therefore overwhelm is inevitable.
休闲时间数据表明，我们并没有比过去更忙，可我们的确觉得更忙了。一部分原因可能是，尤其对“知识分子”来说，每天收到邮件的数量、我们接收到的工作要求，以及处理办公事务所花的时间并没有一个限额。似乎总有做不完的工作，而我们的精力是有限的，所以难免会觉得有点不堪重负。