My now ex-wife had a great first career in brand management at Kraft Foods. Early in our marriage, when she would get all wound up about something that had gone wrong at work, I would often find myself saying “you know Nancy, it’s just cheese.”
Around the same the time, I was in working at Sears. To be sure, I had my share of seemingly miserable days. And when I would get caught up in my own tale of woe, Nancy would sometimes remind me that I was devoting my life to making the world safe for moderately priced, largely unfashionable, family apparel. It’s fair to say that neither of us was curing cancer.
At a dinner party a few years ago, several of us endured a tax attorney prattling on about how tough his day had been. Finally, the pediatric surgeon seated to my right interrupted his rambling and interjected: “Yeah, that sounds really awful. Of course when I have a bad day somebody’s kid dies.”
It’s so easy to get caught up in the minutiae, to tell ourselves that because we are spending time on something it must be, by definition, important.
It’s so easy to spin ourselves into a maelstrom of worry about the small stuff.
It’s so easy to lose perspective.
But more times that not, it’s just cheese.