Barbara Luck’s 1982 poem “The Thing That Is Missed” articulates the absurdity of this “freedom”: The thing that is missed is time without plans, time that invents itself like children with summer vacation, day after day of it, not one free square on your mark get set go Have FUN-dammit-FUN RUN-dammit-RUN Time’s up. Back on the line. Well did you have fun? Not too much fun? Too hectic? More relaxing to work isn’t it… heh heh heh heh
