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The body and a life [should not] only [be] projects, but also sites of episodic intermission from personality, the burden of whose reproduction is part of the drag of practical sovereignty [the exercise of the will as one faces the scene of the contingencies of survival], of the obligation to be reliable. Most of what we do, after all, involves not being purposive but inhabiting agency differently in small vacations from the will itself, which is so often spent from the pressures of coordinating one’s pacing with the working day, including times of preparation and recovery from it. These pleasures can be seen as interrupting the liberal and capitalist subject called to consciousness, intentionality, and effective will. Interruption and self-extension are not opposites, of course; that is my point. But the other point is that in the scene of slow death –where mental and physical health might actually be conflicting aims, even internally conflicting– the activity of riding a different wave of spreading out or shifting in the everyday also reveals confusions about what it means to have a life. Is it to have health? To love, to have been loved? To have felt sovereign? To achieve a state or a sense of worked-toward enjoyment? Is ‘having a life’ now the process to which one gets resigned, after dreaming of the good life, or not even dreaming? Is 'life’ as the scene of reliable pleasures located largely in those experiences of coasting, with all that’s implied in that phrase, the shifting, diffuse, sensual space between pleasure and numbness?