Mornings used to be different. The alarm would go off, I'd make coffee, and then I'd settle in for a bit of news, a cup of coffee, and a cigarette. These days it's a bleary-eyed dash for that same cup of coffee, but now it's a pill instead of a cigarette, the newspaper and the Internet instead of Jane Pauley and Bryant Gumbel.
And there's one other added element -- the notion that I've actually woken up, am alive for another day. Unless it isn't really another day, an addition to the life of the person I think I am. It could be a brand-new day for an entity continuing in the tradition of the entity others believe is me, somehow implanted with the memories of all the previous entities.
It could happen.
What I find really surprising is the thought, when I go to sleep, that it doesn't take much to die. You simply do it, simply cease to be, one more particle in the universe winking out of existence. All the thoughts, all the hopes and dreams, fears, promises, plans, gone in a flash.
It not only could happen, it will.
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