Life through a lens

Oh life, you busy thing you. If I’m not working all hours under the sun, then I am lying instead on the sofa like a wilting flower with an achy petal.

I am beginning to think my head is conducting some sort of internal eyes vs computer monitor battle – reading the screen at work seems to be giving me a headache, but putting on my glasses to read the screen now also gives me a headache! I think the computer monitor is winning, and the whole caboodle is conspiring to send me down into the depths of the nearest glasses shop.

I’m not a natural glasses wearer. I only need them for reading and even then only when my eyes are a bit tired, as I am typing this quite merrily without the addition of anything perched on my nose. Yet I have to admit that the words are clearer when I do drag on the dreaded glasses, as long as I stay looking at the screen and don’t attempt to look anywhere else. The instant I do its like I’m in the House of Mirrors at a funfair, everything seems all over the place, and I feel as blind as a bat. I also hate the feel of them pinching my nose, and the little snappy case, and the silly bit of cloth – it’s all so fussy. Yet I could never wear contacts – the thought of them make me feel ill. I’ve watched many a friend fish around for contacts that have slipped around their eye, something worse than many a horror film, and done my time patting around dodgy pub carpets to find the ones that mysteriously drop out. No, you can keep contacts. I’ll suffer the contents of the little snappy cases for a little while longer.