I'm at page 182 of Time Regained. The narrator is trying to work out a certain feeling of timelessness and figure out what it components are. It's interesting - I feel this book really shows a less mature writing style than The Fugitive, which, sequentially, was written after this one (and was also the last thing he wrote). He's talking about remembering things he wrote about in the last novel, but the way he wrote about experiencing them was so much better than his description of remembering them.
I get the feeling I'm holding off finishing the book because I don't want to be done with it. My two co-readers,
I am going to write a long quote from How Proust Can Change Your Life, but it's going to keep my day from starting if I type for half an hour, and as I've already been up for a good hour I need to make up my mind about what I'm going to do and do it. But really - what a Proustian conundrum to be in! I can't do things if I write, and if I write I can't do things, so I'm paralyzed with indecision. This would of course imply the correct next move is to go back to bed.