In one diary I read (another of my obsessions: women's diaries), the writer confessed to a terrible reluctance to change, any kind of change. Lots of people don't like to move from a familiar house or city or job, but those are major changes and unwelcome to many. But this diarist said she has trouble letting go of anything, that is, of the present moment. Whatever she's doing, she doesn't want to stop. I do that, too, to a certain extent. I can be horribly, obscenely tired, groaning with the effort to stay upright, splitting my face with yawns, needing a wake-pick to prop my eyelids open, but still I stay where I am, trying to make sense of life. Like right now. It's getting late and I have been writing all day, having started a countdown on an assignment (self-assigned) to finish something by the end of the month and here I am, not only trying to stay awake but also trying to write a blog. How stupid is that? I've mentioned before, R.D.Laing's idea that we all behave as if in a state of post-hypnotic trance left over from childhood, and my question whether we were/are ever really conscious of what we were/are doing. Memory plays a role here, both long-and short-term. (Can you remember what you ate for lunch today How about yesterday?) Memory and consciousness go hand in hand, well, they don't have hands, but you know what I mean. So if I'm as sleepy/tired as I think I am, am I going to remember what I was doing/thinking tonight tomorrow? That messy sentence is on purpose, I think. I really have to go to sleep. Let go.