The other day, I ordered food from a well-known establishment. I placed my order, clarified everything with the attendant, picked it up, and drove home. When I opened the bag, I was frustrated. It wasn’t what I ordered. I took a photo of the food and the receipt, and left a review on Google. I don’t usually do that, but this was the second time in less than a month they’d messed up my order. And to be clear, those were the only two times I’d ordered from them that month.

So what’s going on? Why does service feel so careless these days?

I think we’ve become mechanical in how we approach our work. We’re so focused on getting through the task, punching the clock, and getting back to our lives, the ones we put on pause to earn a buck, that we forget we’re serving people. Real people.

We hear all these self-help gurus telling us to “live in the moment” and “grab our destiny,” but our hands are full—bagging food, punching keys, taking orders. So how do we live in the moment and still do our jobs well?

I think it comes down to this: whatever our hands find to do, we should do it to the best of our ability. Not just to get it done, but to take pride in it.

When I worked as a tech, there was always boring work inventory management, cleaning the supply room, and auditing. No one wanted to do it. Everyone preferred solving problems and helping users. But those mundane tasks mattered. Doing them well brought a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t Everest or a flawless CEO presentation, but those small wins made the big ones possible.

Organizing the supply room meant I could grab a “go bag” and head to a meeting without second-guessing what I had. Managing inventory meant we never ran out of essentials—we had what we needed, when we needed it. I took pride in those tasks because they made my job and my teammates’ jobs easier. When I became a supervisor, I made sure to pass that mindset on: take pride in the small things.

We all get overwhelmed. We feel like we’re not achieving enough. But when we zoom in on the small wins, we remember what we’re capable of, and that gives us the strength to keep going.

I once heard a story at my old job: an Uber driver was transporting a colleague of mine, and the way he carried himself impressed her. She asked about his background, and by the end of the ride, she invited him to connect with HR. He was hired shortly after, in his field. She was a senior HR leader. That story stuck with me. It’s a reminder that we’re always on an interview.

If I remembered the people who served me at that restaurant, and I were to interview them, my impression would be that they lacked attention to detail. Maybe it’s not entirely their fault; maybe it’s the way the company treats its employees, the expectations, or the tools they’re given. But the end result reflects on both the company and the individual.

In the end, trying our best and caring about our work isn’t just about doing a good job; it’s about building a reputation, a mindset, and a future. My dad used to say, “Your attitude and aptitude determine your altitude.” And I’ve found that to be true.