It was hard for me to go to work yesterday because there has been such a flood of unrealistic expectations for perfection. People that want cotton that performs like polyester, linen that performs like cotton, stainless steel pans that perform like non-stick, wood that is dense and solid yet lightweight. They wanted U.S. made chairs, but at half the price of a Chinese import. And everything must be absolutely perfect without the slightest little mark, slub, skip, or dimple. They wanted me to defy nature, aline the stars in a manner that best suits them, and promise nothing will ever change.
All I could think about was lunch.