It's not easy being grey

Shout out moment #1: Props to my hairdresser, Ashley, who I ran into for a quick second today on an unexpected errand.  I've no doubt that she was thinking "Well, she's just throwing money down the drain, I guess..." when she did a quick glance at my short, unwashed hair scraped back into a 3-inch ponytail.  She, however, looked gorgeous as usual.  Some of us just don't have those skills. 

Shout out moment #2:  Here's looking at you, mini maple cinnamon rolls that just came out of my oven.  They are pillowy, not too sweet, warm and utterly divine.  And I've eaten three in less than 5 minutes. 

So back in the day, when I was working full-time and was maintaining some semblance of a "work" wardrobe and an "everything else" wardrobe (i.e. yoga pants and free t-shirts from college), I spent a few moments here and there making sure that I had some variety in what I had at my disposal to wear.  But I also gloried in the school's colors, which allowed me to wear red and BLACK every Wednesday and sometimes in between.  Just as often as possible, actually.  I do know that I would sometimes get to Thursday on any given week and make myself wear some brown pants and something not black so as no to go monochromatic for the week.  Obviously, my work color of choice is black, black and bring on more black.

Well, now.  I'm still coasting on that established work wardrobe, a few years later.  (And I still make myself suffer through something that's not black on an occasional class so as to give some false allusion of cheer and goodwill.  Or something.)  But now, well good gravy, who gives a rip what I wear toodling around town in chauffeur mode or mid-week grocery trip mode or (my favorite) working at my favorite coffee spot mode? 

Well.   

It turns out that I've essentially eliminated color from my clothing diet.  In my regular rotation, I have seventeen GREY t-shirts/sweaters/sweatshirts, five BLACK shirts/sweaters, and six ANY OTHER COLOR.  (And that's not counting those three, free grey t-shirts from college.  I still wear those, too.)  (Or the two grey sweatshirts that I wear to sleep in.  SWEATSHIRTS TO SLEEP IN, people.  There's just about nothing that makes me crankier than being cold.)

That's a tick under 79% of my clothes are either grey or black.

And now, when I fold laundry, rare is the time when my pile of shirts are not all grey.

Who loves g-r-e-y that much?  The Elder either doesn't believe me or scoffs at me when she asks me what my favorite color is and I promptly reply "grey."  A college friend who is now a general practitioner for indigenous workers immediately snorted and then said made an "Oh, you're serious..." sound when I pointed at what I was wearing and said "Grey is my favorite color."  What college has GREY as one of its school colors?  NO ONE.  Very few.  Schools would rather be putrid combinations of yellow, orange and green before allowing the fighting GREYmen to take the field.

But now that I think of it, the "fighting GREYmen" is reminiscent of the Civil War.  (Perhaps there's some logic there.)

Color me what you will, I am embracing my love of all things grey.  Except the interminable grey skies in winter.  Those bite big time.  But that's about it, 'cause I love grey and grey goes with everything.  Cheers to that.