There's Lumberthing I don't want to tell you

[lumberjim]

I wish there was something I needed to do. Something to make those hours shorter. I've got the fukkitz bad. Wrecked the neck of the guitar I'm working on. I'll have to start over, but I just don't feel like it. Took 2 naps so far. Would have been a great day to ride, but fuck it. I don't feel safe as distracted as I am. I'm liable to zone out and get myself killed. So I'm smoking too much and not eating, so what. I want to help Shelby, but can't. Not that I could even if she'd talk to me. My son is with her and I talk to him.

They live in a bad place now, and I'm trying to get her to move away. To get out of the house where it happened. Her sister and family are with her, and I guess she's ok. Amanda is hurting too, and I feel bad for her because she feels so bad for me. It feeds back on itself.

Everyone is hurt, and everyone feels bad for me and I feel bad for them for it and the awkward things they say to me. The owner of the dealership came into my office and shook my fucking hand yesterday afternoon. Stood there a moment... And then asked me who found her.

Fuck, Alan. No.

I just shook my head and looked at my computer and said, I don't really want to talk about it. He just spun on his heel and left. He probably feels like shit. No one knows what to do or what to say. I sure as hell don't either.

It seems like this is going to take a long time to become real.