I used to know a man who wanted very badly to be a wild party animal, but some sort of innate sense of responsibility held him back, at least until the weekend. He even confided to me that he wished a doctor would tell him he had only six months to live, because he could then abandon all pretense and embark upon a non-stop binge of drunken and licentious carousing with no concern for the consequences to his employment, his reputation, or his health.
I suggested he go ahead and do it even without the fatal diagnosis since after a few months of that sort of riotous living, he'd probably be dead anyway.
As far as I know, he never did.
And then there is Miss Hathameyer who has shared with me the dilemma upon the horns of which she now finds herself. Looking ahead to her retirement from the work-a-day world, she admits that her one desire is to become the definitive couch potato. She wants to do absolutely nothing, or as close to nothing as she possibly can, all day, every day. She has heard, however, that people who are completely inactive after retiring do not live as long as those who remain active.
And she wants to live a long time so that she has more years to do absolutely nothing.
She's working on that one and will get back to me. And then I'll get back to you.
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