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In my room, lying in bed, I am unable to sleep. I get up, put on my glasses, and turn on the light. I descend the stairs, quietly as possible; my mother is sleeping on the couch. I walk to the hallway, and turn the light on there. I dash back to the staircase, and hit the downstairs switch, turning the light from my room off. Double switches are so convenient. I go to the back bedroom, and turn the light on there. I trot back and turn off the light in the hallway. I hit the button on the computer, letting it boot up. As it does so, I walk back to the living room, then to the kitchen. I am seeking a glass of water.
I go to the sink, and grope for the panel on the wall next to it. There are two switches. One is for the garbage disposal. One is for the dim light above the sink. I feel the two switches carefully, and select the one farthest away from the sink. I pray for an instant that it is the right one, then flip it. No loud jarring mechanical noises. Just a dim light flooding half of the kitchen. The cats know what I’m up to now. They want food.
Silva, the oldest of the three, the black one, she meows insistently. “Shh,” I whisper. I look around for the cat food. She doesn’t listen. She continues to meow, periodically, as if on cue. I swear she’s a Virgo… Meow. I look atop the fridge. Not there. Jool appears out of nowhere and sits next to the bowl, watching me with her big yellow eyes. Damned Pisces. Meow. I open the medicine cabinet. Not there. Meow. I open the spice cabinet. Not there. Just the overwhelming, nauseating smell of herbs and spices, shoved together into one airtight compartment. Meow. It makes me sick. Dora bounds out of the darkness of the living room and skids to a halt in front of the food dish. She waits for a moment, then decides to follow me, tangling in-between my legs and tripping me up. Meow. “Shut up, Silva!” I look over on the desk, and spot a small purple bag. Bingo. But I need scissors to open it.
I’d usually go to the knife rack, where there’s some cooking sheers, but they hadn’t been put back from their last use, whatever it was. Meow. I open the desk drawer, expecting to find one of the other pairs of scissors there. I dig around, then remember that I had run off with them only an hour ago to cut my own hair. Fuck. Meow! So urgent now. I decide to just cut the bag with a knife, and go over the knife rack. There, where they are supposed to be, are the kitchen scissors. Meow! I cut the bag open and give the cats too much food. I finally return to my quest for water and oven the freezer, as the cats happily crunch away. Shit, I forgot a cup.
I open the glass/cup cabinet, and grab my favorite water cup. Shaped like a wine glass, but plastic. The handle is a green plastic fish; the base is see-through yellow. Neon and atrocious, I love it. I bring it back to the freezer and reach into the ice bucket. I fill the glass with five cubes of ice. I fill it with tap water from the sink. I turn out the light, and find my way back to the bedroom holding the computer.
Back in the old house, when I couldn’t sleep, I would creep out of my bedroom and skulk across the living room. Passed my mother’s sleeping form, I was quiet as death. I’d walk to the other side of the apartment and back, closing my bedroom door with a silent smile. It made me feel good to know my own stealth.
And these days, my house is a system of lights.