That used to a be a polite euphemism for being in the bathroom, but it seems to be my lot in life as I watch ads for stuff I can't afford and don't need. Car makers and tablet makers creating feature envy. Does your tablet have more pixels than mine? Does your car have better safety features or a sound system to die for?
Add that to the airline ad that assumes you have one of those marvelous toys with you so they don't need no steenkin' TV screen on the back of the seat in front of you. Yes, I have a laptop, but I feel like I am in a different country than the one the ad-makers are pitching for.
Most of the ads assume folks with a high level of disposable income. Not all; they have some lowbrow ads, like various fast-fooders advertising their latest concoction or budget menus, but most are for folks who have good jobs and have extra money to spend.
Having taken a couple of marketing classes and having been around the block a half-century, I know most of the tricks of the ad-makers, but I still resent having to put up with it on a number of levels. Part of it is an informed avoidance of hedonism, of taking to heart the sermons and scriptures that point to God and away from... stuff.
However, part of it is also a self-centered mourning for not fitting into the modern economy and not having the disposable income the ads call for to play their game. It's not fully self-centered, since I'm truly more interested in being able to do something worthwhile in this world than I am for the money it brings, so part of the mourning is godly.
Yet, there is a part that is envious... not so much for the toys but the fitting-in to the system that I have found elusive. In a culture driven by disposable income, I'm... indisposed.