This is "A Piece of My Mind." I'm Claude Offenbacher.
Much of what we consider to be daily pleasures may be merely routines and not, in fact, pleasurable at all.
This notion hit me one morning while completing a dozen crossword puzzles. I'd clipped them from newspapers delivered after I came home from California.
Was this word-solving orgy a boon to my life, I wondered, or simply a conditioned compulsion to leave no puzzle undone? And how much of the rest of my day would be filled with rituals more habitual than necessary, or even satisfying?