What the angry boss inside me wants to say:

Why are people so fucking lazy and such terrible employees?  I am struggling to balance sick, dying patients, and the least you can do is take care of a client's food purchase.  After hours, you were supposed to bring it to the 24-hour clinic.  But no, leave her banging on the door well after closing while I'm still here on Christmas Eve and having to take care of the transaction.  I don't even see the charges there, actually, so you probably didn't bother to do that either. 

Are these things I am failing to train?  Other employees pick up on these things.  PAY ATTENTION, make notes, USE YOUR FUCKING BRAIN AND LOGIC.  Be considerate of your boss who depends upon you to make her job smoother.  I can't train common sense and following through on a task you created for yourself.  And there's fucking two of you there to figure it out.

AND WE DON'T TAKE CHECKS FROM NEW CLIENTS.  It's clear all over the fucking place.  And when you take them from established clients, you don't even read the fucking check (twice! two incidents! same client!) to make sure the amounts are written correctly!  Are you checking credit cards to prevent fraud?  Marking hundred-dollar bills for authenticity? 

I just feel sorry for them, I guess.  You have a baby and need to make a living and you have what I feel is the best job ever and you're still too stupid to figure it out and should probably be working a much easier and dull job.

I really want to support raising the minimum wage to $10.10, but I have a hard time justifying a buck-ten raise for you, sweetheart.

Angry wife:

It actually wasn't so bad talking to that client because I had to clarify some other things.  And I'm in no rush to go home on this Christmas Eve because my husband is sick and undoubtedly passed out on Nyquil--WAIT, no, he is probably struggling to make me some dinner even though I hate when he suffers to do that for me then just goes to bed when I sit down to eat it.  It just makes me feel guilty.

Angry vet:

I have no idea how to handle a prolapsed rectum with tumor.  Shit perplexed me.  Thank god expert surgeons exist down the street, and thank god the owners were willing to bring him there.  'cause I had no idea.  Such a good cat: hope he does well.  I hate feeling helpless and inexperienced, though.  I could have attempted an emergency surgery if they weren't willing to refer, I suppose, but I sure would have been afraid to fuck that up.  I'm not in the business of doing sub-par medicine.  I accept that I am a GP and have no aspirations to be an expert on everything.  It's not the world we work in anymore.



Felt sorry for the client whose rescue group is trying to maintain a decent program for adopted senior cats.
Dental care would be so wonderful to include, but I personally cannot provide "cheap" dentals.  I refuse to take short cuts, and I cannot charge less for a procedure that takes up time, resources, nursing help, and a tremendous amount of skill and passion.  I wish it were subsidized.

Angry consumer:

I like Christmas for eating good food with family.  I don't buy into trying to shop for everyone.  That is stressful and expensive and unnecessary.  Even cheap crafted presents: I don't have time for that.  I love buying presents for people but only when it's right, not forced.  Christmas music is okay, and I have my favorites, but these antiquated lyrics and ideas drive me nuts sometimes.  And "Silent Night" is so boring.

I think that's all the venting I have.  Oh, wait, no:

Angry body:

I can't keep up an exercise program.  I genuinely love riding my bike and feel exhilarated afterward.  Lately, I can't get up any earlier.  It's also been cold, and I can barely stand that cold wind in my face and ears--but I could run!  Running is okay but not great but better than sleeping on your ass.  I am thirty years old.  I am pretty healthy, but I am tired and stressed and would truly benefit from exercise.  Failure to recognize that will lead to my demise.

Okay.  Merry Christmas!