Story 79: Perchance to Sleep

            I have to get up at 4:00 in the morning next week to catch that flight on time.  I should prepare mentally now.

            4:00 p.m. (the day before the flight): Twelve hours to go.  I’m all packed, the house will be watched, the snail mail will be held, the cat will be comforted.  I can relax a bit by checking e-mails one more time.

            4:30 p.m.: I should probably make dinner now so I’ll be ready for bed at 8:00 to get a full night’s sleep.  I can push it to 8:30, though; 9:00 tops.

            5:00 p.m.: It’s only just now a suitable time to start eating dinner.  I’ll make something quick.

            6:00 p.m.: It’s hard to make dinner and watch TV at the same time.

            6:45 p.m.: Still cleaning up and packing last-minute items that I know I’d miss the moment I saw that they were not in my suitcase.  I’m all wired from the preparations – think I’ll take a bath to calm down.

            7:30 p.m.: I’m all pruny from the bath, and I just remembered that I wanted to see if I can put a hold on my streaming video subscription while I’m gone.  And I almost forgot to call my credit card company so it’s not surprised when “Dublin” shows up on my purchases.

            8:15 p.m.: The excitement is over and even though the sun is still out, I should really think about going to bed now.  I’ll think about it.

            8:45 p.m.: I forgot to enter away messages on my e-mail accounts.

            9:00 p.m.: I really should bring floss with my toothbrush and toothpaste.  I might need some lotion, too.

            9:30 p.m.: Should I leave a key with the neighbors?  Guess it’s too late to ask them now.  Right, I need to bring my contact lens kit, and my glasses – that would have been bad if I forgot those!

            10:00 p.m.: OK, now I really need to go to bed – by the time I fall asleep, it’ll be less than six hours before I have to wake up and I’ll still be tired, which I don’t much like feeling.  To bed, to bed.

            10:15 p.m.: Lying in bed, trying to fall asleep.

            10:30 p.m.: Maybe I should try reading a book?  That usually sends me off to dreamland.  Ooh, I just got to the exciting part in the plot!

            11:00 p.m.: Five hours left, and still not the least bit sleepy.  Would warm milk do?  No, getting up to make it would keep me even more awake.

            11:30 p.m.: At this point, I should try not falling asleep.  I’ll check my suitcase again for anything missing.  Almost forgot to bring socks!

            12:00 a.m.: Four hours to go.  Still not sleepy.  Count sheep?  Nah, I’ll count the money I wish I had: one million, two million….

            2:30 a.m.: Yes!  I was asleep!  And it was over two hours!  But now I only have an hour and a half left.  Noooooooo….

            3:45 a.m.: Not fair – not fair – not fair – not fair –

            4:00 a.m.: Alarm.  Sleep was highly unsatisfactory.  Maybe the jet lag will help.

Story 78: Cat Translator

[Awaken.  Yawn.  Stretch.  Hungry.  Food.  Go to food.]

            “Morning, sweetie.” 

[Ears scratched.  Satisfies itch and feels nice.  Rub against human leg for more.]

            “Awwww.”  Scratch, scratch, scratch.

[Purrrrrrrr…. Bird!  Must eat bird!]

            “Oh silly, always trying to get outside.”

[Barrier.  Foiled once more by the invisible wall.  Must destroy at some point in the vague future.  Now, need to visit the sand.]

            “I was going to clean that!”

[Prefer fresh sand.  Do not feel clean when sand is dirty.  Toss out some grains to cover up properly and simultaneously express displeasure.]

            “Thanks for making a mess!  You’re lucky I love you.”

[Stroll through room, inexplicably stumble.  Clean leg to disguise shame; sounds of mirth from the humans suggest they are not fooled.]

            “Look, he’s embarrassed!”

[Dignity wounded.  Tired.  Must sleep.  Folded cloths are comfy.]

            “Get off the laundry!”

[Shoved off cloths.   Must find a new sleep place.  Heavy cloth on the couch is comfy.  Turn once, and twice, and thrice, curl up, and sleep.]

            “Cat’s sleeping on my coat again!”

[Awaken!  Flee!  Ooh, a piece of string.  Destroy!]

            “Don’t play with garbage, little one.”

[Why do they take away my prey?  Thirsty.  Water in bowl is dirty.  Stare at it.  Stare at it.  Stare at it.]

            “Fine, I’ll change your water!  So subtle.”

[Took long enough.  Too cold.  Will not drink it.]

            “What, now you don’t want it?”

[Water is now acceptable.  Drink.  Must patrol territory.  Several humans, including The One, are missing from the premises.  Stare at the door to make them arrive.  They do not arrive.  Continue rounds.]

            “I’m gonna vacuum the floors.”

[Noise!  Monster!  Flee!  Hide!  Quiet now.  Safe to emerge from under the bed.  Some smells are now missing – must re-mark territory.]

            “Stop that – you’re dirtying up the walls every time you rub your head on the corners.  And I just cleaned all your fur off the couch!”

[The human emits a string of nonsensical noises – reply in kind.]

            “Don’t ‘meow’ me.  Fresh.”

[There is no pleasing the humans.  Under constant threat of loud noises and forced relocation.  Must find satisfaction elsewhere.  Sleep.  Awaken.  A paper is now on the floor – must make it sing.]

            “He always walks across the newspaper when I leave it on the floor; I wonder why he does that?”

[Paper is vanquished, now must lie on top of it.  Pushed off by one of the humans.  Never can go where desire.]

            “Boy, I tell you, that cat has some life.  He gets to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.”

[Food.  Where is food?  A human is bringing the dish back; food is inside.  Such dependence, no freedom.  Constant worry about food, water, clean sand, loud noises, strangers, loneliness.  The One also still has not returned.  So much stress.  Better just to sleep; perhaps The One will be here when next awaken.]

            “He looks so peaceful when he’s asleep.”

            “Like I said, he has some life.”

[For comfort, dream of pillows.  Sigh.]

Story 77: Driving Existentially

            “Sigh,” she said from behind the wheel as they crawled bumper-to-bumper on the parkway.

            “What is it?”  He asked this without looking up from his book.

            “I just realized that my whole life, every decision I’ve ever made, has literally led to this exact moment.”

            “And?”

            “And – is this all there is?  Me breathing in the fumes of the cars around me as I barely move, helpless and trapped by technology and humanity?  If the goal is really the road, or the destination is really the journey, then what if you’re stuck in a traffic jam?”

            “Put on some music and/or have a good conversation with your friends.”

            “Besides that.”

            “Why ‘besides that’?  Can’t that be enough?”

            “Well yes, but besides that I thought there’d be… more.”

            “More what?”

            “I don’t know, meaning!”

            “Meaning to what?  Life?  No one’s ever figured the whole thing out to everyone’s satisfaction, so why should you be the first?  Just enjoy the ride!”

            “I can’t when I feel as if I’m missing something important!”

            “Well, you certainly just missed our exit.”

            “I’m sure that has a deeper meaning to it somehow.”