Oh, the joys of working retail during the season to be jolly: there are none. As usual, I encounter the occasional grateful and sweet customer who appreciates me working while I could be spending time with my family, but for the most part, I encounter stressed out, entitled Christmas shoppers who have officially made me the Grinch. So here it goes, nightmare shoppers: all of the things you did to make my job a living hell.

Apparently, placing price scanners throughout the store has proven to be a huge waste of corporate money because everyone just loves waiting until they get to the register to check the price of the item they just weren't quite sure on.

Then, we have a couple of options for how this process goes. There's the simple response of adding it onto your purchase and moving on because the price is reasonable. Then there's the slightly less simple, but not extremely bothersome option of deciding against the item. Whatever, I get that.

Oh, but my favorite choice of all is the "I want to speak to your manager" one. Honey, let me just tell you that my managers are much more rude, blunt, and ruthless than I, the measly cashier. They will check the price, and they will come back and tell you that the toaster you picked up is not, in fact, two dollars, but rather 20. Oh, so that's outrageous to you? Too bad. My manager doesn't care, and neither do I.

I'm not quite sure that customers are aware of this, but as a cashier, I do not choose when I or anyone else is scheduled to work. My schedule is updated online, usually with my requests off denied, and I come in and ring up your lousy items. Yes, these are the only two registers open. I believe it would be quite obvious if there were more. No, I cannot simply just open another one because, you see, in order to do that, we would have to have some cashiers on the clock, and there are only us two. Oh, it inconveniences you so much that you have to wait in a line just like everyone else?

Well, boohoo, my break was pushed back over an hour just to deal with jerks who think they're entitled to service the very moment they need it.

Fun fact: I do not give a flying monkey's behind if you never shop here again. I would actually be quite thrilled to never have to hear you complain ever again. Alas, I will see you bright and early tomorrow, saying the exact same thing as today.

I suggest that maybe instead of telling me this useless, false information, you actually switch stores. I receive the same amount of money on my paycheck, regardless of if you never come in here again. Also, it would be quite nice to have someone pleasant through my line rather than hearing the same complaints that I, as a cashier, have no control over, as I have explained multiple times.

I would like to share some groundbreaking news to those of you who have never worked in retail. THERE IS NOTHING IN THE BACK! I cannot check in the back to see if the stupid toy your kid wants is here. I don't care if that's what you came for. We have an app and a website where you can pick a location and see if the item is in stock in store or if you can have it shipped there. It's not my fault that you still have dial-up and a flip phone. Learn how to find these things out before entering the store or kindly shut up about it. I do not order the truck. I am not Santa. Nothing in my job description states any sort of responsibility of making sure that items are in stock.

Let me also throw out there that reading should not be that difficult. Do not go stare at the Money Center sign and then proceed to walk up to my register and ask me what time it opens. I just watched you read the sign. Was there more you needed? It doesn't open for another 30 minutes, and I'm not about to leave my register just to specifically open it for you.

No, I am not excited for Santa Claus. Why would you even ask me that? I am a grown woman, working a retail job every day before and after Christmas. I don't believe in Santa anymore. Do I look 5 to you? The spirit of Christmas has left my soul just from being in the store. I am the Grinch. Stop asking me what I want Santa to bring me. I'm here to pay my bills, so please, just let me scan your stuff and move on with my already miserable day.

Might I add, that when I ask how you are doing today, I don't actually care. I don't want to hear whatever sob story you feel the need to tell me. You're buying $800 worth of presents on top of your $300 worth of groceries, whereas my check will be somewhere in the middle of those two, and that check covers my bills. Your complaints only make me hate my life, so please shut up.

Thank you, all of you lovely human beings who I must interact with on a regular basis. Thank you for making my job harder, making my shifts feel longer, and giving me a migraine. To the few of you who don't constantly make me want to pull my hair out, I genuinely thank you for being the reason I don't lose my job over the other people I deal with.

Though I still must deal with the most irritating customers in the world year-round, the season of anger and frenzy is finally coming to a close, and I could not be more thankful for a piece of my sanity returning and for surviving the holiday season without losing my mind entirely.