Check for grues. Then look through the floppy disks? Assuming there are no grues.
Grues don't exist, silly. Besides, the lightbulb above your head would be enough to keep any grues away. You're definitely not still afraid of grues. Even though you overreacted, screamed, peed your pants, swore up and down you'd never use a computer again, had nightmares, and even asked Mom to turn the computer off because you were too afraid, you are most definitely not afraid of grues at the age of thirty-one.
Although the floppy disks initially appeared to be unlabeled, upon closer inspection you see that several of them do in fact have labels. Those deceitful brigands.
While half the disks are made out of the typical black plastic, several of them are made out of a gaudy pink plastic. These pink disks are from a local computer shop called Sugar Bytes that you used to work at, but quit because Tristan was a jerk and the boss refused to fire him. Stupid Tristan broke your Gameboy, that meanie. While the Sugar Bytes disks have a space on the label for writing information down, none of these disks have been written on, leaving their contents a mystery.
Many of the black disks have no labels, but others have crude masking tape-and-Sharpie labels, and a rare few still have the original stickers. Of those that have labels, boring office software seems the most prevalent, but near the back you notice a handful of games. One disk has Oregon Trail and a few other games you've never heard of. Another disk has Zork, a text adventure that you refuse to play because you play only the most cutting-edge AAA blockbusters and not because you had a bad experience with it when you were six.
What's this? One of the disks has been destroyed, quite thoroughly and apparently intentionally. It lies in a handful of pieces on the floor near the computer desk.