a long day

The post conversion woes toil on. It’s like one issue is fixed – which then causes another one. No 45 page reports, just new changes, new systems, new things to get used to.

WE HAVE A WORKING PHONE!. No more trips to the apartment for email and message-checking. Now if cable really gets hooked up on Saturday, we’ll be set.

Couldn’t sleep last night. N wanted to go to bed at 9:30, but I dawdled for a while. Fell asleep right away, but then woke at 2 and laid awake until 2:30 before deciding that reading Harold Bloom might help. Thought about watching “The Hours” but decided I wanted something uplifting to take my mind off, well, my mind. So Harold Bloom, of course! I didn’t get much of anywhere other than frustrated. More later.

Some nice email this morning.
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Felt a bit subservient yesterday – calls at work demanding that I pick something up on my way home, demands to cook dinner, demands to come to bed – then when I want to bring over a carload of stuff from the apartment since we were there anyway I get a huffy and tired response so I end up carrying out 2/3rds of the stuff by myself, still in my work clothes. I'm not your fucking slave. I'm not your fucking servant. I'm not your fucking possession. Maybe being around Sarah's friends isn't good for my relationship for an entirely different reason: I came home feeling valued and gorgeous and worth something more than as the

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