I Count It As A Certainty That

I Like The Idea Of Becoming [fairly] Good At Lots Of Things Rather Than Very Good At Just One Thing. So It Would Be Nice To Be Okay At The Guitar Or At The Piano, A Reasonable Cook, Perhaps Able To Fix Your Car Or Do Some Basic Carpentry, And Be Able To Write The Odd Article. Rather Than Being Super Good At One Tiny Thing, To Be Kind Of Average At Lots Of Things. It Might Mean That You Have A More Kind Of Enjoyable, Complete Life.

Surely, Anyway, A Working Day Of Eight Or Nine Hours Which Is Not Split By A Nap Is Simply Too Much For A Human Being To Take, Day In, Day Out, And Particularly So In Hot Weather.

...[w]e Should Be Mucking About All The Time, Because Mucking About Is Enjoying Life For Its Own Sake, Now, And Not In Preparation For An Imaginary Future. It's Obvious That The Mirth-filled Man, The Cheerful Soul, The Childish Adult Is The One Who Has Least To Fear From Life.

If You Look At The Literature Of The 19th Century, You Get Things Like Kafka And Dostoevsky, Who Basically Write About Feeling Bored And Alienated. That's Because We Lost Contact With The Important Things In Life Like Work That You Enjoy, Or The Garden, Nature, Your Family And Friends.

My Hope Is That Flexible Working And Varying Shift Patterns Will Give Workers A Taste For Idling And That They Will Gradually Demand Greater Reductions In The Length Of The Working Week.