Your lab is a mess. Everywhere; equipment, tables, stray sheets of paper, and your own labcoats, all labeled with notes. At first glance the words are inane, at closer inspection they're genius.

Speaking of genius, you are one. The reason you're in a lab is you've just arrived at work. You are a mad scientist, tortured by your own genius, etcetera, and this is the lab the government provided you to best harness your ability.

Technically, it says 'roboticist and experimental scientist' on your job contract, not mad scientist. And technically you didn't arrive for work given that last night you slept under one of the desks in this lab and therefore as you never actually left, you never could 'arrive'. And technically the government gave you a lab to keep an eye on you and stop you from exploding a chunk of natural environment and/or the city in experiment. Again. After you escaped from prison those four times, they finally gave in and gave you funding, and your prides and joys, your assistants and this lab.

Enough reminiscing! That's all in the past now, and the only think you care about is the future! What's your plan for today, Dr.?