Work dispatch # 1,092

The little sign on my cubicle still says "TBA," and I'm thinking it would be awesome if those were my initials. From now on, you can call me "Theresa Bethany Albanese." Or anything else that creates the initials "TBA." Unless it's mean. Like, uh, Tiny-Brained Alcoholic.

I think I need a little plant for my cubicle (the plant would also have the initials TBA), and some toys. It just doesn't feel like TBA's home. Although, in a minor victory, I reprogrammed my voicemail so that my message doesn't say that someone named Kevin can't take your call. I think this is a step in the right direction. Baby steps. I may also inquire about whether it is OK for me to install Firefox. Internet Explorer makes me enraged, or at least, mildly annoyed.

Another baby step: I am wearing a pretty scarf I made out of fabric I got from Wal-Mart for $2. That makes me feel pretty good, and in fact, is the only thing that makes me feel pretty good at this particular moment. It's an important scarf. In fact, I think I would say it's very necessary.

I barely slept last night and woke up feeling weirdly alert. It was crazily windy--end of the world weather--and now it's snowing. All night, the wind was whistling around my high-rise, and it felt like I was in Wuthering Heights, so I couldn't sleep because I was stressed out about whether I have TB. Wouldn't that be ironic? TBA with TB!

I'm tired, obviously. I need (a) more coffee and (b) to channel this enthusiasm for the English language into my actual job. Jocelyn! Edit something! OK! I will!