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Still dark when I woke up, but not so early I could get back to sleep. It was 4 when I checked, but I just catered to Lady Miss Friday. I finally picked up my phone around 5. Made coffee, of course, jumped into work, but I couldn't log on via Remote Desktop. I can do most of my work from home-home, but I still sent a message to Teams. Also saw a post from Kris expressing bewilderment from the day I snagged a bunch of the mail out of her folder.

I had my session with Candace and it went well. She pointed out my massive self-esteem issues in refusing to acknowledge any credit to myself whatsoever for getting as far as I have despite the various psychological hurdles. She also commented on how horrifyingly little I make from my day (and currently only) job). We talked about my returning to my night job and the Freudian gift basket that my nom de porn is. The most valuable part to come out was the realization that when I put my ad back up, I need to learn to say no. I can make my own standards for when I work and who for and learn to say "no" occasionally. We talked some about the power dynamic between me and Julian. His thing is Need, of course, which is its own weird kind of control and power, but I'm far more settled, healed, and financially stable. I would absolutely adore if he became my equal. The Scoreboard came up, because I don't understand the concept of reciprocity, despite Mamma Morton's best attempts to teach. As long as I'm giving more, I'm safe. The absolute wrong way to give more, with apologies to Sublime, but I suppose it has a net positive effect. Also, I could not exist in a world with Help that I could but don't do.

I checked back in on the indicas from Weed4Less but they were still out. Patience. And dab pens. Also still no word on that request to cancel the other dab pen. We'll see what happened there. I also got a message from Nizar that the authorities were on his case because his name appeareed in some lesbian's book. I messaged everyone and every organization I could think of about advice to get him out. I was just a scotch bit livid at my marital status because we'd previously thought about marrying. It could be worse.

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