I've been reading two threads: Giggling at the College Kids (written by Nano-ers in their 30s and 40s) and We're being mocked! (a reply by Nano-ers in their 20s). As a disclaimer: I am in my late twenties, so my view may be biased.
I can't help think that how busy you are is relative. Some people will believe their entire day is already blown if they have to take one class. Others will have things going on all the time and still be able to take more onto their plate without going completely insane. Neither type of person is a bad person per se--it's just that work ethic-wise, people can be very different.
I have no doubt that people who have families lead very busy lives. After all, you not only have to worry about yourself, but you have to worry about your relatives as well. But I do have to wonder, really, is it that busy that you can't even write at least an hour a day? At the moment, I practically live in lab, but I still find time to scribble something--even if it's this blog post. Does your family and work occupy all your waking moments? Heck, I remember when I was a kid. I spent a lot of time doing stuff on my own without bothering my parents. My parents spent that time working on their own hobbies and not once did I feel deprived.
Maybe kids these days are different.
There are definitely some college kids who have no notion about time management. Others might, but they have different priorities--such as a social life. However, I wouldn't say that all college kids are slackers who have enough time to write ten novels in a month. The first year I did Nanowrimo, I was in the last year of my undergrad studies. I had no social life, but besides classes and midterm exams, I worked in a lab, went to rehearsals for orchestra and chamber ensemble, studied and took the GRE, and volunteered at a homeless shelter. There was other stuff in there too (planning pranks, probably)--although it's kind of a blur because my schedule was so hectic. Yet somehow, I still managed to find time to write 50,000 words.
I'm at the point where I can no longer picture November without writing a novel (or a gigantic 50,000 word writing exercise as the case may be). For me, there is no excuse--and all this blabbering about hectic schedules is just that, excuses--except for being in a coma or thrown in prison without pencil or paper.
Of course, if you do not love writing, then go ahead and do something else! Everyone has a passion in life; it doesn't have to be writing terrible novels. (Although if your passion is creating crazy robots, please do not program them to eat me.)
