THIS POST IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE NUMBER NINE

It’s not just food. It’s also numbers. And textures. All of these, naturally, have colours associated with them.
And there’s a term for this: synesthesia.

[Synesthesia is when stimuli of one type correspond with and cause a mental echo of stimuli of another type. When colours and numbers or letters correspond, it's called grapheme-colour synesthesia
For a complete description of synesthesia, see this http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synesthesia ]

No, it's not a handicap, it does not in any way interfere with normal life.
But your future employers do NOT need to know that.

You....... are special.

You can't work overtime because of your condition.
Either that or your support group is meeting tonight.

"I don't need an ergonomic keyboard, but everything around me has to be painted canary yellow so it doesn't aggravate my severe synesthesia!"

"Your predominantly green outfit is traumatizing me, don't you have any sympathy at all for victims of grapheme-colour synesthesia?

They're heartless, those normal people! Heartless!

I just wish I had thought of all this before I started working here.
Just think of the fun I could have had.


SENSE OF SOLIDARITY

That last one would have been appropriate on Saint Patrick's Day, of course.
But the Synesthesian Support Group will ALSO object to many other colourful holidays.
It's a matter of principle.
We feel strongly about OUR colours. You wouldn't understand.


Actually, I like almost all colours. But all of them mean different things. Eight is a warmer orange-y red than four, which is strawberry. Seven is a pale washed out blue (sometimes dull silver grey), and five is always dark forest green.
Nine resembles food, two is the exact hue of ice cubes - except if they're in a glass of whiskey, in which case they are obviously three (3.2).
Three is frequently the colour of custard (actually, that’s between 2.9 and three point one - three exactly is a lemon, and also the letter 'e').
Six? Six is rice-porridge. Sometimes you just NEED a warm bowl of six. Especially with a garnish of freshly chopped five.

U is greener than 2, but far too muddy. It needs an 'a' to make it look good.

Turmeric combines multiples of three with two, five, six, eight, and nine.

Three is the most beautiful number. And it smells like lemon grass.


There are some colours that are not associated with numbers or letters, and these are especially enjoyable. They have textures.

The orange yellow of certain fruit juices has always spoken strongly to me because it has a velvety feel rather like corduroy, whereas alternating dark and light woodgrain dances in several distances away from the eye - you just know it's sensuous and sexy, like firm peaches to the finger tips.

The medium-pale fresh green of gingko leaves feels like silk, imagine it on your skin.

Bitter chocolate has the mental texture of lace-edging for panties, the amber red of tea is the sensation of animal hair, and pale ivory feels tight, taut, and hot. But you can imagine it having a surface of uniform microscopic bumps.
Skin feels pale green, and rather like three.


SENSUAL OVERDRIVE

All of this jumped sharply into focus today when I realized why I like the exact spot in the office where I'm located.
It's between a pillar painted hot rusty orange (behind me) and a canary yellow one.
Warm hues, the very ones I've always enjoyed highlighting on my spreadsheets.

Past-due 100% open invoices are that specific orange, old partial payment issues are canary yellow.
Recent past dues are lemon.

My accounts-receivable spreadsheet glows at me, it feels solid and zesty, and I enjoy looking at it.
AND IT HAS NUMBERS AND LETTERS TOO!
My eyes are sheerly in heaven.


This might actually be better than a young lady wearing only fourteen and chocolate, or six with a chocolate of a microscopically bumpy texture.
Lots and lots of lovely chocolate over woodgrain of alternating dark and light.
Though nothing really beats running hands over the warm pale green.
It's gingko leafy.

My finger tips are mentally all a-twitter.
Peachy, even.


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