I just happen to have there, in the top left drawer: a toothbrush, some toothpaste, a comb, hydrating lotion, sunscreen, mints, some stupid antibacterial hand spray, some lens cleaner (useful for both glasses and monitors), lip balm, ibuprofen, and a small pocket mirror (given to me by one of these big computer science companies who think that this is an appropriate way to attract women).

In the bottom left drawer: some utensils, tea (Earl Grey and English Breakfast), cereal bars, fruit snacks, dark chocolate, and caramels. (The caramels are made with salted butter and come from Brittany and these little mongrels are delicious.) And a tennis ball for self massages.

On the desk behind me: an extra sweater.

In the fridge: lunch leftovers, yogurts.

The kitchen has a kettle and an ample supply of cold and hot water, coffee, and coffee filters.

I have speakers and headphones (for when my office mate is in), postcards of Paris on the wall, and on the desk a box of tissues, a calendar, a photo I took of the Eiffel Tower, the birthday card I got from my lab mates ("May your Brightest wish come true for you!" is the pre-written text — one of them edited "wish" in "wishes"), an original drawing by Aurélia Dalma herself, a little cow my mom got me in Greece, and a postcard from Florida. I have apparently taken the habit of stacking wedding invitations and thank you notes behind this view of a sand beach complete with palm tree, blue ocean, and a pelican.

I also have three cups (the Ubuntu one is for coffee, the one from the company I interned at last summer is for water, and the one from the conference I attended in December is for tea), a water bottle and a travel cup (mostly used for the 99¢ refills at the nearest coffee shop on the rare days we run out of coffee or on these more frequent occasions when I am too lazy to make my own).

And let's not forget my lumbar back massager ("with heat!" exclaims the manual).

I guess I just spend a lot of time in here.

And anyway, the guys next door have a talking pen and a screaming monkey. Let's just say that Friday afternoons can be interesting.