Chronology of being:
February 24th 2020 My divorce document was finally signed. It’s Official! Bitter sweet feelings all around, I would celebrate but not sure why I wanted to cry. Is ain’t this what I wanted? Not sure why but too lazy to speak and describe it (First nail on my coffin).
By the way, my name is Myre and I am that kind of person
March 17th 2020 I was suspended without paid for insubordination and refusing to use COVID 19 as an unethical approach to close deal for Solar.
March 31th 2020 I have decided to book in Hotel room at The Time Nyack to escape the madness of the new pandemic lifestyle. Being Mom, Daughter and referee 24/7, watch a movie without interruption while sipping a glass of wine. Well! the ideal.
April 1rst 2020 I was wrong and I realized at 1:00 AM that I might be a coward to escape. At 1:23 AM I took my car and wrongfully decided to drive back home and face my new reality. But, I had forgotten one slight detail; I was ready to go to bed and already served with my regular dosage of Trazodone and Klonopin. So I passed out , crush and got served by officer Nelson from New York State trooper. He Did His Job! At 2:42 AM I was drove back home as I wanted to but, different, no car, leaving new pictures away, that will probably never aged and I will never see, also a scar on my neck showing me how close I was from “Is” to “Was”.
I spent days in Bed without one symptoms but all of them, coward, selfish, toxic, dependable, irresponsible, unworthy, lazy … You name it!
April 4th 2020, I remembered the real goal of spending that night at the Time with my computer, It was simply to seat calmly and purchase 20 yards of fabric , a Singer sewing machine and a pair of Titanium scissors. But mostly I wanted to draw in peace and how I could work that 9 years old fantasy fed by My Aunt Gaston, the love she had for me, made her so patient and along with My Grandma M Arnold the best listeners a kid could ask for. They never never got tired of me explaining how I wanted to dress my dolls, my friends dolls for their baptism , that fashion show. That I might saw once in that French magazine and made me dreamt about. It was a “Maybe” I could , maybe I was just too coward, It was too late, too bad as mother to set up positivity for my loved daughter Kimi, my sunshine and my masterpiece. I wanted to create things for my healthcare workers friends and family. I was tired of feeling worthless, finally got up and purchased 20 yards of black Satin, a pair of scissors and that Singer machine but also scheduled a social distance therapy session with Dr Zvi. Here was I “Myre” remembering how things got easier with my Spanish “compas’ , my comrades, my friends. Myre’s & CO. D/B/A my last chance to give life to my ‘’ Couturiere’’ fantasy, my 9 years old “Fantasie”