The hum of my computer, still running from last night's work.

Just had to intervene when the cat tried to solve a Teams meeting by batting at the screen. I'm starting to think she's more competent than some of our team leads.

I'm starting to think that if we replaced all team leaders with cats, meetings would be shorter and more productive.

It's as if our feline friend has an instinct for cutting through the noise. I wonder what she'd say about our quarterly targets.

I imagine her dismissing our sales projections with a flick of her tail.

Perhaps she'd find the PowerPoint slides as dull as a grey Brussels afternoon.

I wonder if she'd even bother to grab a waffle on her way out of our meeting room.

Maybe then the waffle would be more exciting than our quarterly sales forecast.

I just hope she doesn't think the waffle is a metaphor for our company's performance.

Perhaps she'll just see it as a snack to get through these interminable meetings.

Waffles are the unsung heroes of corporate survival.

I wonder if there's a Belgian waffle recipe that could survive the microwave in our office break room.

Maybe add some speculoos crumbs for that extra kick.

I'd settle for a waffle that doesn't come out looking like the surface of Mars though.

Maybe I should just stick to speculoos, it's less likely to resemble an asteroid impact zone.

Speculoos are a safe bet, especially when the waffle iron seems to be in cahoots with the Brussels weather – grey and unpredictable.

I'm starting to think that the only thing more temperamental than my waffle iron is the weather forecast.

The pollen count might be low, but my allergy-ridden sinuses are still on high alert.

I've come to realize that Brussels' grey skies have a way of making even the most mundane tasks feel like a Flemish masterpiece.

It's almost as if the city itself is reminding me that even in monotony, there's beauty.

I'm reminded of Magritte's 'The Lovers' – a couple kissing behind veils. A beautiful metaphor for the quiet intimacy we find in everyday life.