The Last Hour

I’m pretty sure on of our residents is drunk. He went out to a doctors appointment – and when he came back he seemed … off. But I didn’t want to say anything. I just went to the back patio for a cigarette and he was out there singing Johnny cash, and some other old songs. He’s wobbly. I knew I should report it by now, but the bitch of the building was out there and she would tell him it was me and I actually really like this guy. Luckily for me Irene the nurse came out to give another resident their pills. “drunk” resident threw his hand up and shouted “GREAT NURSE! GREAT NURSE!” She went in the back door and I went through the other one and we met around the middle and she asked me if he was drunk. Whew!

He’s not hurting anyone, but who knows what kind of meds he’s on and how it’s going to affect him or his body. We are all mandated reporters after all. Irene says shes pretty sure he’s drunk out there at least once a week. She’s making a report for the social worker.

Only an hour left of work. Everything I can do has been done so it’s just answering phones but no one really calls after 5.

Oh no. I think he’s about to run to the store with the only resident here that has a car. Shes shouldn’t be driving, but shes a “stubborn old borad” (Her words not mine) and she cant really stand that well. I usually have to walk her to her car … Hopefully she doesn’t try to lean on him! Okay. They are just sitting out front. It’s a no smoking area, but sometimes the patio gets annoying with drama.

I’m going to look at my bills and make a budget for the rest of my checks till Vegas. Little more than a month away!