Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day.
Kreiden’s piece is food for thought for just about anyone in today’s modern, cosmopolitan society. There is, to be sure, a difference between busy for the sake of being busy, and actually being productive in the course of juggling several things. For me, there’s a not-so-discernable line between the two—and it’s really only in retrospect that I can be sure of where my busy-ness took me in a given day, week or month.
Anyway, I enjoy his prose, especially so toward the end of the piece. It reminds me of my own seemingly equivocal musings.