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Too damn long.

So I realized last night I cant think of a favorite color anymore. It used to be green, like sage or olive greens, but now...I can't really say it's my favorite.

I think it's from working on retail. I no longer shop in terms of "ZOMFUG!! I love that green thing!!" but rather "oh, that's nice, that is very nice..." "that is such a nice green (or red or navy blue or gray or whatever color; it's less out of generally loving that color family as seeing specific colors on specific items that I react to specifically)." or "that looks so cute with this (or that thing I have at home)".

Which is another side effect of retail, if being surrounded by and considering endless items & combinations of clothing: I sometimes sound dangerously like Daria's sister Gwen ("oh, that is so cuuuuuute!!")....

So I can either get used to it and accept what a who're for retail the retail industry has made me or I can rise up against, rebel, take a stand--regain my dignity and favorite color!  ....or as this is, of course, what pays my rent and may, prospectively, allow me to enjoy the time to write and otherwise pursue things I care about..... I can sit here and simply muse, as I am, about the loss of "individuality", the "sacrifices" made, in growing older and needing paychecks.

Is it worth it? Have I even really lost anything or am I just being (typically) hyperbolic?

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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Or just tell me what you think.

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