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*** ***Alana*** ***
We’re midway through December and the wind has gotten chilly. That usually means we have an influx of homeless patients trying to find a warm bed. Sure a majority are nice and, for lack of a better word, sane but there’s a couple that should really have been admitted to the mental ward. I feel sorry for the homeless vets, though, and I try to sneak in an extra sandwich during my shift. Now if they’re smart, they’ll save it for when they’re out of the hospital.
I come back to a nice, loving apartment with Izz lounging around the sofa and Chris working on his laptop. It’s about 7:45 PM. God damn, it must be nice to work at home or, in Izz’s case, not work at all and still be reasonably comfortable.
Fucking rich kids, I swear…
Before I get into my car from work, I make sure to take my work shoes off and put them in a plastic bag so I can decontaminate them when I get home. I don’t want to bring any superbugs into our home.