I, for one, have rarely had a moment’s relaxation without the immediate and troubling feeling that I ought to be doing something else instead. Like father, like son. At the age of eight or nine, my son said to me, “I always think I should be doing something, but I don’t know what it is.” The oldest person to whom I have prescribed a stimulant was an eighty-five-year-old woman who, on taking Ritalin, was able to sit still more than fifteen minutes for the very first time in her life.
