I came into work today to find my side table covered with old magazines and other assorted binded material. My co-worker's cube was covered with more litter of the sort. My side table has been a contested territory here at work: people seem to think that because it is clear of clutter that it is up for grabs. I asked the girl who used to sit at my cube (who still keeps files back here and even though on each of her weekly visits I have offered to help her move them to her new office, she insists that she doesn't need them), and a few other people if the stuff was theirs. They all denied it and acknowledged how unusual it is for someone to clutter someone else's desk. I marked the shit BASURA and left it in the hallway. All day I have been having complex fantasies about when the sonofabitch from the magazine department comes calling for their stuff and I tell them I threw it out and how if they needed that shit, I can think of at least one desk more appropriate for them to have placed it on.