People at work, not just the little old ladies who wear the $200 sweaters and $300 skirts, with matching shoes and purses, even the old men who I’ve seen for thirty years, who toiled in quarries all their working life, tell me doc, I like that shirt, that tie, they match so perfectly. Where do you buy your clothes? I thank them graciously. They think I have the matching knack. But they don’t know that every morning after I have showered, this is what I see on the floor outside the closet door. They don’t know I am color blind.