Don't steal into the honeymoon... something else

It's oddly comfortable being Carrie, even though you still fear being stuck as her for life. You decide not to become the beautiful blonde newlywed Mrs. Landers, but there are so many other possibilities... as well as just staying the woman you are now. If I'm really stuck being Carrie Ma, there's nothing I can do to be anyone else, you reason. You glance over at the rather old-fashioned cubbyholes behind the reception counter and see that there's a letter in the one corresponding to the room your former self is technically still staying in. You pocket it inobtrusively when you can, and on your next break go to the staff-only women's room (you have no tendency to go to the men's room), sit on a toilet to urinate and defecate, and also read the letter.

It's from your former self's uncle or whoever he's become. You strongly suspect a beautiful woman lawyer who looks too young for her position in life, but there's no clear evidence of that. Unlike in the video, the writer of the letter gives clear instructions for how to use the pen-shaped devices, and a suggestion that you become a somewhat older person, preferably a woman, for a few months, to gain some maturity and insight. It's obvious that as Carrie Ma you're just the sort of woman the writer is suggesting you spend some time as. "I wish I'd become that sort of woman first," he or perhaps she writes. "Don't worry about being trapped as her. You'll know when to move on."

You pocket the letter again, finish using the bathroom, wash your dainty girlish-looking hands, head back to the front desk.