My computer desk. The place of no return. If you are unlucky enough to say, "I left it on the computer desk," you can consider it as good as gone. The desk is covered by a few centimetres of strange papers that nobody remembers putting there, and CDs that have no name that could hold secret passages and radical songs, and that nobody dares to touch.

Then there's also the amount of cups and glasses that reappear every so often in the mess, and get recycled in the dish washer only to return to the desk again.

There's some stationary, and strangely that disappears as well though – nobody yet knows where. There is a theory that they just get lost, but this has not yet been proven.

At the back there is a precariously balanced stack of CDs, CD cases and CD albums. Beside those lie the dictionaries and calculator that lean on them and occasionally push them over. To add it all up, there are usually stray things like the digital camera, a pack of tissues, a couple of books and perhaps even a receipt if you're lucky enough to spot them.

Yes, my computer desk. I have learned to live by the motto, "Maybe I just left it on the computer desk."