At the moment, in a vast open-plan office the size of a football pitch, with a constant hubbub and clatter of keyboards. Over my head is a row of clocks purporting to show the time in various cities of the world (all wrong, of course, because the engineers here are stroppy.
Being a modern, paper-free office, every available surface is covered with newspapers and printouts.
No cats here - which is a pity, because on my desk is a photograph of a mouse which has caused consternation among my female colleagues by emerging at intervals from the ducts that carry the network cables under the floor.
The machine itself says Compaq on the front and I loathe it because it keeps crashing. At home I have a Mac PowerBook and a small psychopathic black and white cat that likes to stand on the keyboard and stick its rear end in my face - sometimes with unpleasant consequences (cf Liz the Squeak's thread on feline flatulence!)
In a week's time I shall be leaving all this noise behind to move into my own office with a couple of Macs and a lot of hope to start up a business. And, by heck, it's a terrifying prospect.