Pottery Fantsy - Pottery Reality

I have installed a well-equipped pottery studio in the back room of our house, which we call the "blue room." I have a wheel, a kiln (outside in a shelter), work tables, shelves, tools for working and decorating clay, engobes, glazes - the works. I have essentially quit working as a translator and editor and given up writing projects and ambitions. My main activity in life is now producing attractive, mainly useful forms. Every day I get up and work in the studio, on a variety of projects, both throwing on the wheel and hand-building. I sell the work that I make at moderate prices, and I am not aiming at producing perfect pieces - just pleasing ones.
I travel to ceramic supply shops, to the studios of other potters, to exhibitions.
I read about making pottery and experiment with techniques - gradually.
I take on projects - in order to learn - sets of things - exploring forms.

Suppose I had gotten bitten by the pottery bug back when I was in high school. Would I have been happy as a potter? That's a stupid question, of course. Stupid because I can't go back in time, and stupid because, had I been the kind of kid who was swept up into a craft like pottery, I would have been a totally different person, because I wasn't that kind of kid. So then I'm asking, would that other person have been a happy man? Or, perhaps, I'm asking: would I rather have been that kind of person?