This is a little exercise that I did when I was first painting and still working as a waiter at a Perkins restaurant. I call it The Servant and it sort of sums up my time as a waiter, except for the fact that I never wore tails when serving pancakes. It was a great learning experience however. I think everyone should wait tables for a while. Teaches humility.
I remember going to some openings and being praised for the work. “Oh, this is so wonderful” this and “You’re doing great stuff” that to the point my head barely fit in my car to drive home. Then the next morning I was pouring coffee for a factory worker or a trucker and I would realize that for most people my so-called triumph was an absolute nothing. Didn’t matter and never would.
My head returned quickly to its normal size and would resume my duties as a server, all the time whistling and humming tunes in my head to pass the time. Here’s one from Lyle Lovett that was a favorite back then and still is.
Redtree Times 
When my novel appeared, I did what all writers do and Googled the title incessantly to see what people were saying. I came across one blogger who wrote something like, “I’m reading Beneath A Panamanian Moon by David Terrenoire and it’s great.”
I left a comment thanking him for one of the nicest, and shortest, reviews I’d received.
He posted a reply to my comment, obviously embarrassed and said that if he’d known an “actual author” was going to read his comments he would have chosen his words more carefully.
I told him that this “actual author” began every day by picking up dog shit.
That, my friend, will keep you humble.