212
I got really bad service at a restaurant yesterday.
The meals being either wrong or someone else’s were one thing. But when the server walked away while I was explaining what we did order, I had a revelation.
I don’t think people want to screw up. Self included. But we do.
Maybe it’s time for everyone to temper their expectations.
I expect the world of myself. I am comfortable with people expecting the same of me.
Truth is, I don’t always hit their goals or mine. Or come close. And I am pretty good about beating myself up about it. Both the not hitting the goals or not understanding/knowing them.
I’m going to make a promise myself to go easier on people. I mean generally I try to show grace. But I boil inside.
So this month — yes, I said month — I’m going to keep my temperature below 212 degrees Fahrenheit.
Not try to keep. Keep.
I just watched a movie (“I’ll See You in My Dreams”) and the moral is basically we all end up dead and alone anyway. Might as well not live in stress, too. And hey, maybe a Sam Elliott lookalike will end up briefly on my doorstep, too …