So, there I was, deep in the trenches of paperwork and endless Zoom calls, when I looked up from my laptop and realized something. There it was. To the right of my keyboard, peeking out from behind a folder like a guilty party caught mid-scheme: a salt shaker and a black pepper jar.

Now, I know I put them there. There’s no kitchen gnome sneaking into my office after hours. But why? With what intent? Was I unconsciously preparing to season my laptop for extra flavor? A pinch of salt for my reports, a dash of pepper for my emails?

Or maybe, just maybe, I was channeling my inner “bruja”, arming myself against the evil spirits of corporate malaise. Salt to ward off bad mojo during Zoom marathons. Pepper to keep away the ones who insist on saying “let’s circle back” without irony.

And then I noticed, just a little further away, an empty 7Up can. Exhibit B in this growing mystery. So what was it? A pasta party gone wrong? A planned desk-top culinary experiment? Or was it simply the physical evidence of me entering “the zone”. That work trance where documents blur together and my desk slowly becomes a cross between a bodega counter and an experimental altar.

All I know is this: the next time someone tells me to “bring some spice” to the meeting, I’m ready. Literally.