#newyear – The Inner Workings

My sort of New Year’s resolution to blog at least once a week was wrecked. Why? Because this girl got COVID. Yeah, I know, right? COVID ruins everything. Seriously. I could make a list. (The baby shower, my graduation, my vacation to Massachusetts, I could go on. . .)

Here’s a breakdown/timeline of how this went.

January 14th, I started not feeling good. It was just sinuses. The weather kept changing, I mean, it is Arkansas — are we really surprised? But yeah, wasn’t feeling good but mainly my sinuses and that was that. I went and had lunch at Olive Garden that day with my bf. Everything good. Then Saturday when I saw him, he wasn’t feeling good at all. We went to Texas Roadhouse and he didn’t even eat the rolls so I knew something was wrong. He dropped me off and he went home.

Now, either that night or Sunday, I suddenly was hit with fatigue. Not sure it was my insomnia or if it was COVID. Either way, I went to bed at like nine o’clock and passed the hell out. I got caught up on sleep and felt good.

My cousin Paige and I go to work on Monday. My bf gets tested I believe it was on Tuesday and got his results on Wednesday. He tested positive. Wednesday, I was not feeling good and only went to one job, especially after he tested positive. Paige got tested and got her results on Thursday. Paul and I got tested on Thursday and got our results Friday. We all tested positive. While my aunt (Mom) and Jack tested negative.

Paul and Paige got a lot of the symptoms, checking a nice little box. I on the other hand was simply very tired, had a headache (but that also could be because lack of caffeine), my taste buds were all wonky so nothing tasted right, couldn’t smell anything, and my stomach was very upset. I had a cough for a little bit but that was it. Also, I don’t believe I ever had a fever. But my body temperature also runs at a nice cool 96 (it once read as like 93 when I got drug tested for my job and I swear the lady thought she read it wrong) which means when my body temperature is like at 98, 99, it could just mean that my inner temperature is finally semi-normal. (I could possibly be anemic. Who knows?) I also had a sore throat.

Here are the symptoms of COVID. I’ll bold the ones I had and italics the ones Paul and Paige had. It they are both then we all had that one symptom.

Fever or chills

Cough

Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing

Fatigue

Muscle or body aches

Headache

New loss of taste or smell

Sore throat

Congestion or runny nose

Nausea or vomiting

Diarrhea

Paige also had trouble breathing. Keep in mind that Paige has underlying medical problems. She already has heart problems and breathing problems and doesn’t have the best immune system. Neither does Paul. But basically, having COVID was like having a bad cold. Luckily, we only had a mild case. From what I understand/heard/read, COVID affects everyone differently. So people, like us have a milder case while some have no symptoms at all, and then others have more severe case.

I slept a lot mostly. Forced myself to eat crackers and drink apple juice. I couldn’t have soda or my favorite mint tea for days because they both tasted horrible. Since my aunt and Jack were both negative, Paige, Paul, and I wore masks when we came out of our bedrooms to use the bathroom. My aunt used this rolly cart and put our food and drink on it and rang a dinner bell for us. That was we kept out of her and Jack’s way and not infect them. She’s a saint and we owe her like a vacation or a steak dinner or something. Both, probably.

I did what I usually do, which was binge watch shows. That got boring after a while so I colored in my adult coloring book and wrote some, did some research so I can figure out my life. (Ha. Maybe.) Paige got this cool diamond art thing that I wish I could do but like, I’m blind.

It wasn’t until around last week, around Wednesday or so that I finally felt more like myself. We stopped wearing our masks around Thursday since none of us had symptoms and we were cleared by the Arkansas Department of Health to stop quarantining on the 30th anyways. Paige and I got retested on the 29th and yeah, we’re still positive. But according to the CDC, you can remain positive of COVID for up to 90 days but not have symptoms and not be contagious. I sent an email to both my jobs and I get to return to work! (That’s where I am as I write this actually. We are so dead at the school. Save me.) Paige gets to return Thursday. My aunt is hoping she can return but her job requires a negative from all of us (She and Jack are still negative) but that won’t be for a while. On the other hand, my bf is now negative.

In other news, Pagan had her baby! My new niece was born 11:52pm on January 25th. It’ll be a while before we can see her though. Emery Millie Bates is beautiful. Now I have three nieces/nephews. Eliana or Ellie as I call her is my brother Tristan’s. She turned two December 19th. Salem Hunter Mace is my sister Chloe’s. He was born December 4th. And now, Emery! I do like that they gave me girl-boy-girl. It works with me. I can’t wait to hold Salem and Emery when I’m able too.

I really hope this passes. At some point. Then we can get back to normal. . .maybe. Not holding on to that concept. We will probably never be quite back to normal.

Since this is the first day of February, I’m making a February resolution. (If that is a thing. It probably isn’t. It is now. A Valentine’s resolution? Ew. No. We’ll stick with the month.) Either way, this is my New Year’s resolution starting in February, to blog at least once a week.

Hope everything is doing well. Stay safe. Wear a mask. Live a little. Pet your dogs. Don’t forget to breathe.

-K

Welcome to the new year! (Yes, I realize that it’s a bit late).

This is my first blog of the year. Forewarning: it will be all over the place.

And again, I make no promises. I get easily distracted so I will try to keep up with this to the best of my capabilities.

It’s only 28 days into this new year, the month of January is nearly over, and I can already tell that it’s going to easier than last year. Or rather, not easier, but less stressful.

Last year was mostly good. I started a new school and a new job and began my journey to getting my double bachelor degrees. That changed Fall 2017.

I lost my grandpa, Dean Reeves, August 9th, 2017, my uncle and sister’s birthday and a week before the semester started. It was extremely hard for me, for everyone. My grandpa and I were always close. I lived with him and my grandma and uncle twice in my life. Once when I was in 4th grade and then again when I was 19. I have always been close to that part of the family. I did everything I could to keep in touch, and to find out that grandpa was – is dead heartbreaking.

I started fall semester feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Barely two weeks later, my 22-year-old brother tried to commit suicide. Nonetheless, the start of the fall semester was rough. I was trying to talk to my brother and dealing with my grandpa’s death. It was a lot for me.

I don’t have many grandparents. Yes, there’s Michael’s (my father) mother – Pamela, but she disappeared out of my life and has never tried to get back in contact with me. Neither has Michael though. And there is Twyla and Ted (who also passed away), but they were never that close to me either.

Dean and Patrica Reeves, they are my grandparents. Now, all I have is Grandma. Grandpa isn’t there anymore, and it hurts. I’m better now, but there are still times when I think to myself:

Grandpa won’t see me graduate college.

Grandpa won’t be there when I publish my first novel.

Grandpa won’t be at my wedding.

Grandpa won’t

Grandpa won’t!

That phrase races through my head, and it never seems to cease. It’s like a horrible chant in my head when I think of all the these he won’t see. All the things that he’s going to miss out on because he’s not here.

We knew he was going to die. The doctors gave him 6 months. Well, he made it longer than that. He was always a tough old man. Grandpa made it through another Christmas, another birthday. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. He’s going to miss out on so much with his children and grandchildren.

I miss him every single day. It’s like I can’t breathe. It’s that feeling you get when you have a cold, and you have this lump in your throat that just refuses to be removed, but then you swallow, and it’s better. My teacher told me that this too will heal. And it will. But I miss him every day.

Sometimes, I still say “Grandma and grandpa’s house” to my aunt, and I have to catch myself. Or my aunt says it. It’s only now where we are finally getting used to saying “Grandma’s house.”

When he died, I wanted to scream and yell and throw things. I still do. I couldn’t write or draw. It’s only recently that I finally got back to that. And now, I can write about him without feeling like there’s glass in my throat.

So who was my grandpa?

He was everything.

He was amazing.

He could turn a piece of wood into a beautiful coffee table.

He took pictures of nature so that everyone could see the beauty of a hummingbird, a bee or a flower.

He was an incredibly talented man. He never stopped.

I loved my grandpa. I loved him so much. And yes, I still miss him. There are days where it really just…sucks. There’s not a word to describe these feelings. Sure I put on a brave face – that I know my aunt can see through – but on the outside, I’m smiling. Inside, I’m screaming. Now, it still hurts. It simply hurts….less.

I know that if he were here, he’d want me to keep going, keep trying, keep moving. Grandpa was always proud of me. Every single time I had a poem or a bit of a story or a new art project, he always had time to read it or see it. One year, I drew him a canary. A few weeks after I gave it to him, he posted a picture on Facebook and tagged me in it. It was the canary drawing, proudly up high so everyone could see it.

That’s who he was. I will always miss him, but I know, wherever he is, he’s still making furniture, he’s still taking photographs, and he’s still telling his jokes. And that’s all that really matters.

I miss writing. I miss painting. So I’m going to get back to that.

Here are a few of my little goals:

Write every day, even if it’s like a sentence of shit
Draw or “doodle” something so I can get those muscles working again
Really work on my photography. Break out the camera-camera and not my cell phone
Find a way to dance, even if it’s in my room

A rather unknown fact about me: I once wanted to be a dancer. I still do actually. I love to dance, even if it is a bit terrible. I used to listen to all these songs and have so many ideas for the choreography. I wanted to take ballet lessons or something when I was younger, but it never happened. I would love to take lessons. I’m not saying I’ll become some top dancer, but I’d like to try to dance.

My playlist so far for 2018. I am obsessed with these songs

1. Symphony by Clean Bandit feat Zara Larsson. This song simultaneously makes me sad and happy at the same time. And the video? It is beautiful. Symphony is the title of this post for a reason.
2. Dusk Till Dawn by ZAYN feat Sia. The video is alright. But I love the lyrics and the power of this song. It’s beautiful. In my head, I have two people dancing to this song. With paint. It sounds crazy but is awesome in my head.
3. Home by Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, and Bebe Rexha. The song is from the movie Bright, a Netflix Original. If you haven’t seen it, I definitely recommend. (Another Netflix Original movie to see: What Happened to Monday?) The video to “Home” is very political but I love it.
4. What About Us by Pink. It’s another rather political video. The choreography in it is visually stunning. It’s a really beautiful video. (Also check out Beautiful Trauma. Channing Tatum is seriously adorable.)
5. Meant to Be by Bebe Rexha and Florida Georgia Line. Like Dusk Till Dawn, the video I don’t get. The lyrics are great. It’s a simple song with a great meaning.

Other great songs:

Rich Love by OneRepublic
Silence by Marshmello and Khalid
Told You So by Miguel
Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons
Rainbow by Kesha

Mirror: A Poem

You are crooked glasses,

always sliding down your nose.

You are patterned leggings and baggy sweaters over

sports bras.

You are dyed hair

in a perpetually falling messy bun.

You are ink and paint-stained fingers.

You are a towering pile

of notebooks with its own code.

Each page filled with the thoughts

that run rampant through your head.

You are the scrambling search for a notebook,

and the frantic scratching down of an idea

before it fades away.

You are the canvas that one day will be filled.

You are dark brown eyes

that gleam either black or gold.

You are bright blue eyeliner lazily applied

and perfect red lips.

You are mismatched jewelry,

leather, silver and gemstones.

You are a brilliant smile and kind eyes

but a sharp tongue.

You are well-placed one-liners

to make people laugh.

You are….

Me.

For Grandpa – February 10th 19(?) – August 18th, 2017th. Don’t worry, I’ll capture nature for you. We all will. I miss you very much. I love you. (All photos by me via my cell phone.)

-K