The Big Tortilla Era

I ordered a wrap from Subway the other day. It was, quite literally, 90% tortilla. A dry, flavorless sheet folded around one lonely piece of meat and a single slice of tomato. I didn’t realize it at first. I took a bite, nearly choked on the doughy nothingness, and thought, What the hell is this?

When I opened it up, it wasn’t just disappointing. It was…symbolic. No substance. No care. Just the appearance of something that should’ve been good, hollowed out to save time, money, or maybe just effort.

The Wrap That Sparked a Revelation

And then it hit me…this wrap feels like the world lately.

Everything looks the same on the surface with the branding, bright colors, and the illusion of abundance, yet somehow the soul is missing.

It’s not just food. From the products we buy to the places we work, from social interactions to relationships, it feels like the care has been stripped away. Things exist, but the substance is missing. People do the minimum, check off the boxes, and call it good.

Convenience Over Substance in Everyday Life

But how did we get here? When did we suddenly become okay with just being okay? And more importantly, how have we become so complacent and accepting of lives that lack depth, substance, and care?

To clarify, I’m not some old bag simply longing for the ‘good ole days’, nor am I trying to be a ‘Karen‘ ranting over one bad wrap. This isn’t about nostalgia or longing for the world to fit into my expanded societal fantasies to make the world a better place for myself. But lately, I’ve noticed it everywhere. Little pieces of life that somehow slipped through the cracks. Care and quality disappeared, leaving behind the hollow shells of what should have mattered. Meals feel rushed, products feel disposable, conversations feel shallow, and relationships often skim the surface. It’s as if the effort that once gave life texture has become optional.

And it’s not just in the things we consume. It’s in how we connect. Sometimes it feels easier to be alone. With smartphones, video games, streaming, and endless distractions, staying home can be more comfortable than stepping out into the world. I could go days without speaking to anyone and feel perfectly fine, wrapped in the quiet hum of screens and convenience.

But that comfort comes at a cost. The more we settle for easy, the less we practice effort, patience, and presence, the very things that give relationships and life meaning. In a world full of options, novelty, and constant stimulation, it’s tempting to treat people the same way we treat a wrap that’s mostly tortilla: consume what’s convenient, ignore what’s missing, and move on.

Work, Education, and the Rise of Transactional Effort

And it doesn’t stop there. Jobs can feel transactional. Projects are completed, reports filed, presentations given, all without thought or pride. Instead of years of education being the pathway to success, suddenly we can watch a 10 minute video tutorial on YouTube, or complete an online certificate and become an expert.

Students scroll for answers instead of diving deep, using knowledge from the internet as the backbone of authority even though that giant spread of information sometimes feels like a buffet of shallow bites rather than a healthy meal.

Fast fashion, mass-produced meals, and Instagram-ready experiences all promise a plethora of options, yet strip away what makes them meaningful. Convenience has become a substitute for engagement, speed for substance, and the easiest path for effort.

Relationships in the Age of Swipes and Likes

Relationships have changed too. Friendships, dating, even family interactions can feel surface-level. Social media makes connection instant and conversations are often reduced to text, likes, and emojis, with people being just one swipe or click away from someone new. Dating apps make it all too easy to move on rather than work through challenges, creating a culture where finding someone else feels simpler than sustaining the relationship you already have.

Of course, I’m not suggesting the convenience of modern technology is all bad. It’s incredible to have nearly all the world’s knowledge, entertainment, and connection at my fingertips. I can learn a new skill in minutes, explore ideas I never would have encountered otherwise, and stay in touch with people everywhere. The access we have today is unprecedented, and it’s amazing in so many ways.

Some might brush off the patterns I’m noticing as a “generational thing,” a sign that people today just don’t care as much as they used to. At the end of the day, I don’t think its that people have changed, but rather the experiences that shaped us are now different. The internet, smartphones, and instant gratification don’t make someone lazy or shallow, they just create a world where the easiest path often seems good enough. And when the easy path becomes normal, it subtly reshapes how we work, learn, and even connect with each other.

Maybe I should stop complaining. Everything is so easy now. Perhaps you think I should order my wrap with more toppings next time, or try a different Subway location. I call bullshit. The idea that easy fixes are enough is exactly the mindset that has gotten us here in the first place.

The Ripple Effect of Small Acts of Effort

We can’t keep feeding into this “okay is fine” mentality. Some things really do matter, even if it’s a stupid wrap from Subway. It starts with effort. Paying attention. Adding substance where it’s missing. Choosing care over convenience, presence over distraction, and quality over ease.

If we keep accepting mediocracy what kind of future are we creating? Imagine a world where effort is optional, where every product, every job, and every relationship is just a swiped choice or a checkbox. A world where care and presence are relics of the past, and convenience rules every aspect of our lives. The emptiness we tolerate now is the blueprint for tomorrow.

Maybe the next wrap I order will be better, or maybe the world won’t change overnight. But the small choices we make today shape the culture we live in tomorrow. Perhaps one person’s act of care and attention can ripple forward and create a universe where care and quality take precedence over convenience and ease.

Because if we can’t care about the little things, then what will ever really matter?