As we huddle in the shelter during the first of three missile alerts after midnight, bulletins beep on our phones. According to the US, or at least its president, there is now a ceasefire. Around the country, eyebrows raise in unison.

During the second alert, which includes a full alarm, the news starts to diverge. Iran has agreed. No, they haven't. Yes, they have. All parties will be part of it. Except Lebanon. And maybe the other Gulf states. And no one has heard from the Houthis yet.

During the third alert, there's more news. Iran has submitted a list of demands. No, they haven't. Yes, they have. The US has agreed. No, it agreed to a different list. Or maybe they have the same one, or no list at all.

Iran bombs Kuwait again. We bomb Lebanon again. The Lebanese government doesn't say much, because they don't really control what goes on in their country. Hezbollah launches more missiles. We have always been at war with Hezbollah, or so it seems.

We're told that the ceasefire will last two weeks. That is, unless someone violates the ceasefire on the grounds that the other folks violated it first. That happens pretty consistently.

I check a calendar. The two weeks will end on Israel's Independence Day. Great. We'll look up at the sky and try to figure out if we're seeing fireworks or Iranian cluster bombs again.

People in charge are trying to get things back to normal as quickly as they can. The city's WhatsApp announces that schools will reopen as usual tomorrow. Parents are told to have their children bring their lunches, if they normally do, and also a second meal, just in case.

The House announces that meals will return to the usual schedule, without the split shifts.

Passover ends tonight, which means that households are switching back to normal food. For those who use different dishes for Passover, tonight might be frenzied in their kitchens and storage spaces.

I still have matzah left over. That's OK. Matzah tastes better when you don't have to eat it.

There's another less official holiday tonight, called Mimouna, on which Moroccan Jews and others celebrate the end of Passover and the return to normal food. Usually, there's a big party in the city's largest park, but it's not happening this time. If anything goes wrong, the park doesn't have enough bomb shelters.

I think I saw an announcement, with a cute graphic, for "Mimouna on Wheels," apparently a traveling celebration in the city, with food trucks. I can't find it now, though. Maybe I dreamed it. With our randomized sleep cycles, it can get hard to tell.

Odds are that we might not have alerts or alarms tonight. Everyone is still vigilant. Tonight, at least, I'll still be sleeping in my big chair, with my clothes and shoes on.