Monday, I left work early to go uptown to the police station to get the keys to the apartment to get onto Bran's computer, grab his Palm Pilot, anything to get some more information. Also, to see if the place smelled and rid the bathtub of any residue. What I got was a listing of the properties that the police had confiscated (apartment keys, wallet) and instructions on procedure for dealing with the Property Clerk's Office of the NYPD. I also stopped by the funeral home to confirm that Bran's remains were to be cremated. Even though Bran stated it in his Will, the Executor has to confirm on paper with several signatures and initials that cremation was requested while the deceased was still alive.

Tuesday morning before work I went to 1 Centre Street to the Property Clerk's Office. All these places I've had to visit to process Bran's death give me the creeps to begin with. Doing it for a friend makes it worse. So, when I got to the first security checkpoint before the Property Clerk's Office at 9:00 a.m., I was in no shape to have a woman yell at me "this is a STOP sign! You must wait here in line before you get to security!"

Imagine being in a small corridor with Patty LaBelle yelling at you at full performance energy (the same energy that allows her to kick off her shoes in the midst of belting out a song and score a field goal with ease) and you'll get an idea of what it was like to be with this officer. Then, after removing all my metal and passing my bag through an X-Ray machine, I had to type my name into a screen and take a picture of my face. One is prone to look at the photo-taking button, but my actor instinct insisted I look at the camera while pressing the button-like picture on the screen. Across the courtyard to where they made my sticker after checking my ID, then down to the basement where people are still claiming precious objects from September 11, 2001. "Oh, you're not ready for us yet. You need to go to [Brain Overload] Clerk and get [Brain Overload] form and bring it here." Will there be anything else I need? "Well, you need the Death Certificate for the [Brain Overload] Clerk." Anything else? "No." Back to work, where the first thing I did was call up my lawyer friend to hire him to help me through this process.

Each step of the way, I learn why I shouldn't have taken that step yet and what I need to do and where I need to go before I try again.

Yesterday after work, after confirming with the funeral director that they had the Death Certificates (I get 3 for free. The other 7 cost $15 apiece) I went uptown to retrieve them and stop by Bran's apartment to see if it has been broken into. The other funeral director didn't think the certificates were there, but after looking for 10 minutes he found them and then after I began to freak, he sat me down and explained to me the process of retrieving anything from the Property Clerk once it's confiscated by the police.

After he explained it to me, I walked through the deluge which had begun about 15 minutes earlier to Bran's apartment, was let into the building and saw that there was a Police "Seal" across the door. The seal broken and the door locked. Hmmmmm.

On the train home, I looked at the procedures sheet I got from the police on Monday. It pretty much explained what the funeral director and the Property Clerk sort of told me.

I began to calm down. After living with this for almost a week-and-a-half, I now realize that no matter how badly I want this experience to be over, it will take as long as it takes.

I'm thinking at this point, maybe I'll have his apartment cleared out by November 1. Maybe.