|The Coding Cap
||[Dec. 5th, 2003|02:28 pm]
Wednesday morning, as it happened, I had a really annoying headache. I ended up going in to work late and being generally irritable for the first half of the day as my headache lingered on. I think that one of the big reasons I was so annoyed was that my migraine had made me very photosensitive.
Like many office buildings across our great land, our workspace is lit by fluorescent tube lights. Long hanging fixtures that flood the space with gobs of glare. The one refinement over the 1950's archetypes are that these point upwards, bouncing the light off the ceiling tiles in an effort to diffuse it. It is somewhat successful, at least.
But my photosensitivity was bad that day. You know the pain you get sometimes when you walk outside into a bright sunny day? Your eye muscles desperately try to pull your iris closed while sending sharp little pain messages to the brain. Being sensitive to light with a migraine is much like that scenario except that the pain is (1) a bit duller and less intense and (2) continuous for hours on end.
Just after lunch, I got to the point where I couldn't take it any longer. I resolved to find a hat to block the light. You see, I tend to code while leaning back in my chair, casually looking down my nose at the monitor. Nice and comfy except that it leaves plenty of your upper vision exposed to the glare of overhead lights. I reasoned that a brim might shield my eyes.
It turns out that the company store doesn't sell baseball caps, so my initial plan of disguishing my glare shield as company loyalty didn't work. I set out to the one store I knew near work which might have something to fit the bill...
And it turns out they did. They had one cap exactly my size. A woolen houndstooth classic cap! And for only ten bucks, by Jove. Back at the office, it worked perfectly; I was able to hide under my hat and concentrate enough to work.
The cap earned some interesting looks, but that's okay. I think it has the right air of eccentricity to it... Not unacceptably weird yet still bizarre. Which, really, is a good description of me.