As I was walking back to my car from lunch today, I looked at my pants. They're black jeans, except they're not dark enough to really be called black; they're more like a dark grey. And this reminded me of something.
When Ratha and I were living together, one time, we had an argument over dark blue. See, we both agreed that off-white was disgusting and that pure white was much better. Ratha extended this to a similar criticism of dark or navy blue, which I didn't agree with. We were kind of upset with one another.
I think this came up a couple more times, and it could easily have taken an hour of anger and bad feelings, all told. I've known Ratha for maybe a year and a third now, but given the proportion of that time that we've actually spent interacting, that hour was probably more than 0.01% of our total interaction.
And I can't help feeling—our time together was limited. And we spent that hour arguing about dark blue.
What a fucking waste.