Headaches, Glasses, and Spitting Cats

I haven’t been using the computer much over the past couple of days but I have a headache anyway. It might be the sparse lampshade in the landing behind me (the bulb shines out of it too brightly). Even when I sit with my back to it, I can see my shadow cast sharply onto the wall while the light bounces off the screen. Makes me a bit sick.

I think these glasses (for myopia) make me a little light-phobic. A while ago I took them off for a few days. I’m so short-sighted I can’t see text on the computer screen when I sit at the normal distance away, even when I increase the font size. Mum said I would get a headache not wearing the glasses, but I didn’t get a single headache all the time I wasn’t wearing them… just a neckache from craning!

After five days I put the glasses back on, and all of a sudden I’m getting headaches. I expect they focus the light beams too much.

I don’t usually care about my image (I pull a shopping trolley around, wear open-toed sandals and gush on about my cats), but Mum was asking (and she asked me the same thing when I was 15) “would you wear these clip-on shades on your glasses?”
My answer was the same as it was then…. “Never! It’s so uncool.”
“Who cares about being cool??”
“Well I don’t, normally, but those things might scratch my glasses.”
“No they won’t scratch your glasses.”
Pull the other one. Ugh.

What would be cool would be prescription sunglasses.

I had no intention of writing this when I sat down to blog. I was going to complain about Mum’s cat Cheeky. She sits on top of the PC monitor (it’s one of those old ones built like a breeze block) and she dabs things moving about the screen… which is cute, till she leaves fifty pawprints and I have to wipe them off. Then she swings her tail across and I can’t see what I’m doing, so I push it aside… and she glares at me and gives me a swipe for being so cheeky.

Even worse, she has claimed the computer chair as her own, and when I come to sit in it, she doesn’t budge. So I say “I want my chair back, please,” and touch her, and she’s ready with her slashing claws. I get more insistent that she has to leave, and she has a real hissy fit before finally leaping off in a fury. It’s no wonder my cats don’t get on with her… she’s not even getting on with me that well. Maybe she’s blaming me for bringing them here.