Cats screw with your brain. Fact.

When I was 14, pubescent and gangly, we got Olly. Olly the cat was fluffy, adorable and when he looked at you, your heart melted like Vienetta in your nan's 35 year old freezer.


Then a few years ago, after Olly's companion died, we got Sophie.


And Sophie is actually out to get me.


Don't get it twisted, she's not violent, and on the outside she looks utterly harmless. Her claws remain firmly in her tiny padded feet and her teeth are only showcased when she yawns, but I can honestly say she is evil.


Why? You ask. Here's why. 


Example #1: The Stare-Glare. 

So here's the scenario. I walk in to my room and clock Sophie.

She'll be on the radiator just maxing and relaxing and I will look at her joyfully. An 'awwww' may even slip out of my mouth.

I will then turn away from her, content with her presence, and sit at my desk, writing or stalking people avidly on Facebook.

But there's no denying it...there is a dark prickly sensation creeping up my back as if someone is watching me....

I flip around as fast as my Argos chair can go, simultaneously thinking of a list of things I can use to attack potential intruder:

1) hairspray;
2) my hair brush;
3) a teaspoon out of my yoghurt pot, definitely left there for a good few days.

However, there is no one there. Just Sophie. 


I chortle to myself and casually glide back round to face the screen, sure in my mind that my darling cat is happily sleeping behind me.


But still, I swear I can feel....

I stop. This is ridiculous.

I turn slowly round on my swivel chair, breathing hard, like I'm expecting a man with a chain-saw to be sweating behind me...

And still, there's just Sophie. But she's not asleep. 

I lock onto her pensive, creepy ass glare and she just stares. Stares. With those slitty little cat eyes. Directly into my soul.

Then I turn the hair dryer on and she shits herself and runs out the room.

Hannah-  1 - Sophie - 0.


Example #2: The Murderer.

I was home alone the other night, minding my own business, watching some programme about penguins and how awesome they are, when Sophie comes in.

But she is not alone.


She walks right up to me, a poor bird in her mouth, gasping at his last breaths, and lays it next to my NAKED feet.

And I SWEAR, I swear she then looked at me and we had AT LEAST six seconds of intense eye contact.



Hannah - 1 - Sophie - 1.



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This is all a power game.

I'm watching you Sophie, don't you worry. I'm watching YOU. 


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LOOK LOOK Cat Photos Online! Lollo Lolz

I've been having one of those weeks where I feel irritable and critical around 65% of the time. The other 35% of the time I am sleeping.

There's no particular reason for this.

I don't have a hard life. I get out of my double bed with clean sheets on it in the morning and go down and have my Crunchy Nut. I leave the house in an automobile which works fairly well. I go to work in a nice, safe office.

And yet sometimes, I just have this big ass hump going on which I find powerfully hard to shift.

It usually starts with me stubbing my toe whilst leaving my double bed, stabbing my eyes with mascara and crying black tears, then going downstairs to find there is no Crunchy nut left and I have to suffer with the dreaded "All Bran".Eurgh.

First world problems, hey.

So to save me from turning in to a full Whinging Pom, I have decided to quash this misery by partaking in a hobby which I know always leads to happiness and fulfilment.

Call it the 'Eat Pray Love' of the internet, if you will.

And that? That, friends and Mom, is looking at cat pictures online.

Here are my top three.

Beyonce

Booty liscious. She's got jelly and I loved it.

Running, stick a fork in me, I'm done.

I ran a half-marathon over the weekend.

Done.

Just call me a really awesome athletic person now. 

Thanks especially to Nike. I had my trainers stolen a week before my run, and their bad-ass social media guru hooked me up with some shoes so that I could run the race for Parkinsons UK.