Just too busy being busy?

We may as well change our voicemail messages. “Hello you’ve reached Alison Sweeney, I’m too busy to respond to your call, and as you’re probably too busy as well, it’s unlikely that we will have a meaningful conversation”.

Even our behaviour has changed. We’re embarrassed to admit we’re not busy. “Nothing much,” I meekly replied when asked by a colleague what I did at the weekend. And then immediately felt embarrassed as if my husband and I were social outcasts, staring forlornly at a blank social calendar and clutching our mobile phones in the vain hope it may ring and issue an invitation.

The guilt of not being busy is hard to bear. Weekend newspapers, once shiny examples of relaxing reading matter, produce a two-page supplement on things to do at the weekend. Two pages! Whatever happened to putting your feet up and watching the world go by?

If you’re of a rebellious nature, be warned. “Doing nothing much” has become an indulgent pastime to enjoy in the privacy of your own home. Admit you enjoy “doing nothing much” and you’ll be ostracised by a very “busy” society and its “time-poor” inhabitants.