Invisible

F*** You Rona!

Sheesh, it's been a minute. Do you want to know what day it is? It is currently January 28th, 2021. I wrote and published the introduction that you just read on October 17th, 2020. With that being said, you can probably guess what I am going to talk about next. I told myself I had to sit down tonight and write some more, even though I am so tired. In other words, you can call me the Muffler Man because I'm freaking exhausted! Sorry, I'm a car person so you may not have understood the joke...anyways. As you can assume, I've been struggling a bit recently, but let me just tell you what kind of bullshit life has been throwing my way these past few months. Hmm.. where do I start?

In October, I was oh so lucky enough to be smacked in the face with this 7 thousand pound brick we call "Rona." That's right, you know what I am talking about. The wonderful, glorious pandemic causing, virus, Covid-19. It's hilarious to look back right before 2019 ended, everyone partying with their friends on December 31st shouting "2020 will be my year!" Yeah right! I mean, to be fair, no one saw this coming. So, yeah, I caught the Rona. On Sunday, October 25th, I went and hung out with some friends of mine. I had a slight cough, just tiny enough to feel like I only had something tickling my throat. I said to my friend while having a coughing fit after holding it in for so long, waiting for the other person to get out of my car, "I held that in the entire time he was in the car. I didn't want him to freak out and think I have Covid or something." We laughed, but, little did we know. I think the funniest part about this entire situation was the night before, Saturday, October 24th. My friend and I met up with some other people at the club. It was the first time in a long time they opened up the inside of the venue, and as you can imagine, that place was jam packed. Some people decided to keep their masks on, like myself, while others took theirs off. I had a cool black bandana mask that was serving two purposes; making me look badass and also "protecting" me from the virus. My friend and I were headbanging and having fun in the middle of the floor and I look at her and yell over the music "we are not leaving this place tonight without Covid!" This brings us to the next day with that slight cough. However, Monday, when I woke up, holy hell! Now this is where it gets interesting. My mom and her boyfriend (Dave) were at work. My brother comes over to show me some thing on the new PC system he bought me. Yeah, you heard me right. My brother bought me a freaking PC system. A lovely dude indeed. Anyways, he is downloading games onto my computer and I am in the bathroom, blow-drying my hair since I had gotten out of the shower shortly before he arrived. This is where that stupid cough really begins to set in. I had a massive head ache too, like someone bashed my head into a cement pole and then backed over my entire body with an 18 wheeler. I wish I was exaggerating. Shut it, I know what you were thinking. I gotta say, the worst symptom I had during that time was that it felt like I was continuously jabbing a knife into my eye sockets. Weird, right? Sharp is an understatement to the pain I endured in my head during those two weeks. As always, I just let it eat me alive, like I do with everything else.

Somewhere around that time (I think) I had to go have a colonoscopy done and holy mother of GOD was that awful. I want to say that was in 2020, but who knows because now, my lazy ass sits here and writes this on July 12th, 2023....yep, you heard that right. I have to be honest, I kinda forgot about this little 'story' I was writing. The past year and a half was a wild ride for me, let me update you. I moved to a completely different state, alone, on Thanksgiving of 2021, started my classes for 'college' (at NASCAR Technical Institute) that following December, and graduated on April 21st, 2023. So, here we are. I am 3 months into the beginning of my life, finally being able to work full time and have the money to get my gym membership back (which God knows I need it) and not have a single worry in the world! Afterall, this is my future! Right...... let's chat.

So there I was, happy to graduate, but also sad as hell that this chapter of my life was ending. The program I did was so fun and I finally felt like I was doing something with my life. I met some awesome people and experienced some really cool things throughout that time. I even met my current boyfriend a few weeks into my appearance at the school in my Manual Transmissions course but, that's a story for another time. Oh, yeah...I forgot to mention. Your girl graduated as valedictorian, student speaker, with multiple awards, AND with a 4.0 GPA throughout that entire year and a half. That's right, a graduating class of only guys, and this girl whooped all of their asses. Not to mention, I had a new class every 3 weeks, the majority of which were only males and rarely ever a female. I knew nothing about the automotive industry when I started but there were a lot of people there that were pretty much YouTube certified, backyard mechanics since they were kids. Meaning, they pretty much knew just about everything already, made sure EVERYONE knew that they were better, and ended up getting passed by a girl at the end of the day. Anywho, I dealt with a lot of shit during my stay at NTI. I got sick more times than I can count. I guess my immune system didn't appreciate the 15 hour days, stress, and extremely crappy food that my body endured for all those months. It was a challenge. I ended up getting Covid 4 or 5 times since September of 2022, and yes, I showed up to class everyday. Of course, I didn't tell anyone I had the stupid rona, I just kept my distance and told everyone not to be an idiot. I wasn't about to take the hit on my 4.0 GPA or my Highest Honors in Professionalism Award, which I indeed did receive at graduation. They take attendance there, like intensely. You miss one day and you receive 3 infractions...you can only have 8 infractions before failing a class. Being late costs you 1 infraction. If you're instructor isn't a total ass, you may be able to squeeze through the door scotch free, but only if it's less than 20 minutes after the bell. It wasn't easy being sick during my classes. I was exhausted as you can imagine because if you have an auto-immune disease, I'm sure you're aware of the constant fatigue and exhaustion, no matter how much you rest. Classes at first were only 3.5 hours long, Monday-Friday, but of course I had to work afterwards. Once I got into my second program, the NASCAR program, I had to be to class from 6:30AM-1:00PM, then work from 2PM-6PM. I would wake up at 5 every morning and I typically wouldn't stop moving until around 9PM. Needless to say, it wasn't as easy of a day for me as it would be for someone with a functioning immune system and a back that actually resembles a 22 year old, rather than an 80 year old. When I got into my last 3 classes, which was fabrication and welding, I would stay after class most days until anywhere from 2:30PM-4PM. A lot of the time, they'd have to kick me out of the lab because everyone else is gone. I was so interested in my projects that I wouldn't want to leave. And, of course, I also wanted to be the most successful one in the class so I worked my butt off. Sickness tried to take me out, but boy did I put up a good fight. Those 2 weeks in particular that I was very ill with the rona, those were tough. I thought the tape measurer was going to defeat me in lab while I was attempting to make parts with the correct measurements. Imagine you've been in a desert for 10 days, no food, no water and it's about 120 degrees. The delusion starts to set in. Now imagine you find one person in that desert and they start throwing math questions at you, numbers, fractions, decimals left and right. It's been years since you've even seen the inside of a high school and you couldn't even comprehend the concept of algebra when you were 17! Yeah, that's how I felt. A fever ran wild in my body, my legs pretty much saying "f*** you', and my brain left 13 years ago to buy some milk. Despite how I felt, I stuck with it and did the best I could. Like I said, I ended up picking up viruses for months like it was candy on the ground. I think my body may have been a little angry about the long days. What's new. Tell that bitch to get over it.

To make a long story short, here I am, 3 months later. I searched endlessly for a new job to start my career once I graduated. I did interview after interview, lucky enough to get recommendations from my instructors. There really wasn't anything that was catching my eye, nothing that made me want to drop everything. I stuck with my job at a local automotive shop for the time being, but the day after this past Memorial Day is when I officially wanted to die. There I am, being a good noodle, getting ready for work. I bend over to put my stupid pants on and whoops, there goes my back. My TWENTY TWO year old back, you would never believe that if you read my history on paper. For the third time in my life, the worst time of all, my back locked up and gave out on me. So there I laid, unable to move, on my bedroom floor in nothin but my work shirt and underwear, at 9:30 in the morning. Shit. I literally just got back from a 3 day weekend and I seriously have to call my boss, whom is expecting me in half an hour, and tell him that I am basically paralyzed from the waist down? Ooookay. I could feel the disappointment reach through the phone and strangle me. It's always something with me, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't believe a word that came out of my mouth. I could hardly walk and it was excruciating. I went to the ER once I realized it was not getting any better. Usually, when this happened before, it was resolve itself within a day or two. I was given pain meds and a steroid shot, any relief? Of course not! (read that again but picture the fakest nice girl smile you can think of) A few doctors appointments later and I was left with a stress fracture and something else going on in that good ole back of mine, but I wouldn't know because my insurance is so f****** stupid. No MRI for me, no physical therapy, no chiropractor, no relief, no healing. Basically, I was left with a big, fat, ugly middle finger to my face. So, I lie here for the past 2 months, praying to God that rest and being lazy will heal me. It did, for about 2 weeks. But with my luck, that bitch came back for some more. Of course, this is, right after I accepted one of the best job offers I will get in my life. Yay!

Guess my short story wasn't so short after all.