jesus, when’s it gonna stop?

It’s been two weeks today since Dale died, and it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet.  I still feel like any minute he’s gonna call me and tell me it was a joke, or a mistake, or that when I get back to Columbia we’ll have band practice for four hours straight since we’ve been slacking or something.  This is just so sudden and I’m in denial.  I consciously know he’s not going to show up, but I can’t help but think that he’s just running late or something, or he forgot… that is so like him…  he’s not gonna ask to borrow money anymore, or talk to me about how cool his car is, or what kind of cymbals he wants next.  He’s not gonna tell me that everything’s okay and he’s not going to talk about Jessica anymore.  He’s not gonna show up late to practice and he’s not going to help us load up after shows.  He’s gone and he’s not coming back and I still just can’t accept that yet.

I miss him so much.

I’m in Philadelphia and this has been just about the most stressful few weeks of my life.  Everything that can go crazy has gone crazy and it seems like the whole world is against me.  I’m pretty much out of money and God only knows when I’ll get paid for this contract, if I get paid at all for it.  I’ve been up here about three weeks and made almost zero progress.  We found out that the mold problem with the house is a lot worse than we thought, and we’re gonna have to call in a professional mold remediation service.  This house has a Class IV mold contamination.  I shouldn’t even be here without a full-face respirator and haz-mat suit – seriously.  But of course, we’re just sleeping here.  I had to justify an air purifier and dehumidifier on the expense account.  Come on!  I shouldn’t even be here.  I have headaches constantly, I cough, my eyes and nose run, it’s difficult to breathe, and I lose my concentration frequently.  I struggle with my vocabularly and I can’t even focus long enough to read a book.  Ventilation here is terrible and it is so humid outside that opening the windows only makes it worse.  Not only that, but because of the Trust issues, I can’t even begin the real rehab work yet.  I don’t have the paperwork I need to even get started on this house, so I’m basically just sitting here waiting for it and breathing mold in the meantime.  They tell me it could be 10 days before we even find out IF the paperwork will go through!  I should just go home.  Fuck, I"m not even getting paid for this.  I’m living in a hazardous environment and so is my dog and I’m tired of it.

On top of that, the house has asbestos insulation and lead-based paint, so even when the paperwork goes through, I’ll have to subcontract the PAINTING.  There goes our profit margin.

Grr.

I can’t wait to go home.

Dave