There's a picture on the wall in front of me, with patterns of colored dots forming the shape of an apple. I am surrounded by the constant clackety-clack of fingers hitting keyboards with the rapidity of a machine gun. A lone derelict monitor with a sign taped to it reading "Sorry! This computer is out of service" sits silently beside me. The air conditioning vent blasts cool air that combats the heat radiating from 19 running computers and a printer. There are white splotches in the carpet where a piece of chalk has been ground in. Books and papers litter the countertop, and one only hopes that some sense and a decent grade will come out of it all.