If one can’t contrive to live on a certain income of money， one earns a little more—or steals it， or advertises for it. One doesn’t necessarily muddle one’s life because one can't quite manage on a thousand pounds a year； one braces the muscles and makes it guineas， and balances the budget. But if one cannot arrange that an income of twenty-four hours a day shall exactly cover all proper items of expenditure， one does muddle one's life definitely. The supply of time， though gloriously regular， is cruelly restricted.
Which of us lives on twenty-four hours a day？ And when I say “lives，” I do not mean “exists”， nor “muddles through.” Which of us is free from that uneasy feeling that the “great spending departments” of his daily life are not managed as they ought to be？ Which of us is quite sure that his fine suit is not surmounted by a shameful hat， or that in attending to the crockery he has forgotten the quality of the food？ Which of us is not saying to himself—which of us has not been saying to himself all his life： “I shall alter that when I have a little more time”？
We never shall have any more time. We have， and we have always had， all the time there is. It is the realization of this profound and neglected truth (which， by the way， I have not discovered) that has led me to the minute practical examination of daily time-expenditure.
“沒錯，他是屬於不懂得如何理財的那一類人。雖然擁有較好的工作、穩定的收入，足夠供他日常消費和享用奢侈品了，可他並非特別奢華之人，卻時常陷入困境。總之，他屬於那種不會理財的人。他有一套很不錯的公寓，但裏麵空****的，看起來總像是接待了一撥又一撥的拍賣經紀人似的。他的西裝煥然一新，帽子卻破舊不堪；脖子上的領帶華麗無比，下麵的褲子卻皺皺巴巴；請你吃飯時，他用雕花的玻璃器皿盛糟糕的羊肉，或把土耳其的咖啡泡在帶裂痕的杯子裏。他也弄不清楚，隻好簡單地解釋說，他零星地花完了所有的收入。真希望我能有他一半的收入！我一定會教他……