Aristotle claims that a certain amount of leisure is necessary for philosophical contemplation — key to the good life. Some amount of leisure is necessary for real human happiness.
In Walden, Thoreau says that a philosopher should be able to clothe and feed his-or herself better than ordinary people. And we know how big he was on leisure time for walking and writing, though perhaps he might not call it “leisure” like those “really” industious folks among us might. (What?)
I would contend that, if you are mentally…robust (and bored) enough for philosophizing, you are smart enough to do the things you have to do (like poop, eat, cook, travel, etc.) better than other people. Whether you do is another matter, and I never knew a whole lot of philosophers who were also very competent people. I pride myself on my own expediency in personal matters and efficiency in practical ones. This is, of course, because I am very lazy and value my leisure, no?
If you get good grades but can’t do anything practical better than anybody else, you might just be mis-using your own intelligence. Pretend that the laundry or cooking breakfast is school. You’ll learn to apply your brain to things that don’t get you grades but that get you something better, like a tasty egg sandwich and enough time to read spy novels to boot.
Or, you might just not be very smart at all. I resent people who claim, “I am booksmart,” when it turns out that they are fucking idiots and/or morons and/or dumbasses. If all you can do is school, despite really and actually and honestly trying to do other things well and intelligently, you are probably not as smart as you think you are. I have known a good number of scholarly folks of this kind who turned out not to be any kind of smart. They excelled academically only through excessive studying and concerted effort.
Not that I am down on academic excellence in itself and certainly not down on effort. Anyone who knows me knows how weak-willed I can be when it comes to work I don’t see a point in doing. But I want to start throwing bitches off of buildings when such over-glorified memorization and regurgitation masquerades itself as actual intelligence. I had a metaphysics professor at BC who I admired very much. And he contended in his book that intelligence begins with reflection. I joked with him that, under his definition, the whole fucking world is stupid.
He just laughed.

