My life is filled with possibilities.

On a week booked to the minute there are no possibilities. There's only the next item, and then the one after that.

Think about the last Saturday with nothing in it. Around eleven in the morning something occurred to you — an idea about a trip, or a person you'd been meaning to call for a year.

That possibility wasn't new. It had been sitting there for months. You simply had the bandwidth to see it.

The filling isn't the problem. The looking is, and looking takes an unbooked hour that nothing else is allowed to claim.