Too much?

I'm really nice to my team. Sales is hard, really pressurised, and this quarter at our company the targets are fucking insane, and my team's got the biggest one. I can see in their eyes the desperate hunger usually reserved for UNICEF ads. Where once there were dollar signs, now there are only shiny tears of despair. 


And other such prosaic bollocks. 


They are all sad though. Sad and young, lots of them are fresh outta uni. Which is lovely, it makes them all really keen and enthusiastic, and I love having them around, but sometimes it does feel like a zoo. When I've asked them thirty times in the past three days to do one simple administrative task that takes them roughly three seconds, and 50% of them have forgotten because they're just so used to being nagged until they do things, I do start to tear my hair out. That, and rant at Peter. I got home yesterday, made dinner, sat down on the sofa and ranted for six hours. Six fucking hours, guys. I kid you not. 


So yesterday, when me and the other managers were in training, and the guy asked which little things stressed us out, I did a potted version of the six-hour rant. I felt a bit guilty afterwards, because they are amazing, and admin is annoying, so I said 
"I love my team. I do. I love them." 


To which he replied: "Yeah, but you just wish they'd all turn 18 and go to university." 


YES. YES, EXACTLY. They can still come home for Christmas, I'd cry if they didn't, because what would Christmas be without my children? 


There's something actually wrong with me, isn't there? 


Probably nothing a hefty dose of vodka won't fix, though.