Thursday, June 16, 2005

Current Mood: Rankled.

Yesterday I had to take my dog to the vets. As said vets operates on a 'first come-first served' basis, we got there early hoping not to have to wait too long.
Unfortunately, the vet was late so we had to hang around for nearly an hour, but what got me annoyed was the woman who decided to strike up a conversation with me. She was about mid-sixty-ish, and at first the topic was about dogs. Fine, usual topic in a vets, no worries. The she asked me if I was going on holiday this year. Again, not a problem, I said probably not, and to be polite asked her the same. 'Yes' she said, she was going to Spain in three weeks time. She then started going on about how much she needed to get away, as she was going to visit her father for the week beforehand, and as he was 93, he was getting to be a problem as he needed looking after even more after her mother had died a year before, aged 90, and wasn't it difficult caring for elderly parents and it was such a chore for her.
'F**k you' I wanted to say to her, no I don't know how difficult a 'chore' that is, I won't have the opportunity to know what that's like either as my Father died 3 years ago, and my Mother killed herself 13 years ago. I was an only child orphan at the age of 33 facing a legal battle about whether or not I can keep my home, which still isn't bloody over, I've been going through some serious stress and depression, and I miss my parents every day so much it's tearing me apart, and you have the audacity to sit there and complain that you have to go on holiday after spending a f**king week with your Father! I'd give anything to be able to spend a week with my parents again, you don't know how lucky you are you stupid cow.
I didn't say it though. I just nodded politely while she prattled on until the vet called us in.
Then we went home. My faithful darling doggy who is my best friend and family to me had a special treat for being brave.
I had a bottle of wine and cried.