Being a colorblind engineer is tough. Not on me, though, even though I’m a colorblind engineer. Tough on those around me. Here’s an example.
In my kitchen, I have black wrought iron chairs and a granite kitchen countertop. Over the years, I’ve noticed the backs of the chairs where they touch the granite have become worn; the black is less black and more gray. The paint has worn off exposing the metal underneath.
The engineer in me comes up with a solution – I’ll go buy black felt sticky squares and put them over the worn spots. The felt pads are small and thin, will be less noticeable than the exposed gray metal, and will protect the chair and the granite. Off I go to Home Depot to make my purchase and put my plan into action.
So I’m standing in the kitchen, putting the aforementioned plan into action, when the Sweet Wife looks at me. I don’t recognize this look. Bemusement? Horror? She says, “What are you doing?”
So I explain my aforementioned plan and how it will protect the chairs and the granite an how I bought these black felt sticky squares to …
“But those aren’t black,” she says. “They’re green.”
Oh. Well, that was unexpected.
“Bless your heart,” she says. “It must be terrible living in a colorblind world.”
“Oh, not at all,” I reply. “In my world, everything matches. Apparently, though, it stresses out everybody else.”