veterinary racket

I think I should have been a vet. Shiner is itchy. He has been his whole life. He has some weird puppy allergy that causes him to get a rash on his belly and it generally costs me about $100 a visit for the vet to confirm that he’s “itchy” and give me more antibiotics and cortizone pills. Thanks. I need to leave in about a half hour to make it seven miles to the office for a 4:30 appointment. Traffic is already getting ridiculous for the holiday then I have to turn back and go to Tacoma to Captain’s for the long weekend. Instead of just refilling the fucking prescription and letting me pick it up on the way home from work I had to come home and get Shiner, drive back north to the vet, then turn around and drive south past my place and to Captain’s. Not. Impressed. Instead of packing, I’m blog whining.

To that point, it turns out that no one has to read this. I consider this the written equivalent of jumping around yelling “look at me! look at me!” thenĀ putting my hands over my ears and yelling “lalalalalaalalalalla” and not listening. I like to just launch thoughts out into the universe and let them float around unattended. If you laugh, cool. If you hate it, oh well. That’s how I roll. I don’t really proof read this much or copy edit for content. I do enough of that at work. This is my version of a really shitty first draft that no one else is supposed to read but I publish it anyway. That’s real. And often crazy, but at least it’s authentic. Ok, have fun with your annoying relatives tomorrow.

veterinary racket

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