I"m learning it's not always easy to design a perfect world. For instance, tonight as we were sitting in a booth at our favorite little restaurant the couple behind us were having an intriguing conversation concerning the warmth (according to her) or lack of warmth(according to him) with which he had greeted a young waitress who was leaving the restaurant as they were entering it. Unfortunately, a good deal of their conversation was almost inaudible, even if I kept my head turned sideways as if I were studying the blackboard listing dessert choices on the opposite wall. And, of course, the one time their voices began to rise a bit, Karl picked that minute to ask me how I could be interested in a dessert menu that hadn't changed in six months especially since we never order dessert anyway.
On the other hand, I could hear every word of the debate two men a few booths away were having concerning the relative merits of flying or driving from CIncinnati to Chicago, paying due attention to the complexities of the weather in both cities at various times of year, possible hours of departure and arrival, precise destination inside or near Chicago, total amount of necessary luggage etc.
So how do I arrange things in my perfect world in order to avoid this kind of frustration? Maybe I'm not quite ready to be in charge of world--could that possibly be? (And do I hear a sigh of relief from those who know me?)
One easy improvement, though--in a perfect world dogs couldn't stand cat food. You could fill the cat dishes in the morning, and they would remain on the kitchen floor undisturbed all day until that mysterious moment, unique to each cat, when he or she suddenly realizes that they are ravenous. Think of it--no snatching up the half-empty bowl the cat has just walked away from and the schnauzzer is diving for. No loud, reproachful laments from the cat as you hurry to fill his dish before he expires at your feet from malnutrition.
So there, I do have some good ideas.