A supervillain may have lied to us.
​Everyone is shocked.

Dear fellow world savers

Apologies for the lack of updates last week. I hope you are healthy, are doing well and that you have competent people to rely on when life throws unexpected curveballs your way.

Not everyone is that lucky.

Turns out when you call in sick on the day before V-Day, not only does no one take you seriously but unless you explicitly tell them to take care of a task for you, they will forget to do it. Like send out an internal newsletter with a clearly marked deadline.

Just to pick a random example.

In my team's defense, half of Marketing has been out with one affliction or another these last two weeks, so my intern-level tasks weren't exactly a priority in anyone's mind. Most of them really were sick too and recovered in time to help deal with the aftermath of this year's V-Day disaster.

Still, we are catching a lot of side-eyes from other Departments for the "convenient timing" of these absences.

Unjustified side-eyes, might I add. I really don't get where we got the 'slacker' reputation from. I don't see any other Department trying to interview a supervillain mid-attack.

I also have the sneaking suspicion that some of my co-workers do not believe in illnesses. As in genuinely do not believe people get sick and that anyone who does is just making excuses to get out of unpleasant work.

If that were true I would not have shown back up in time for the monthly check-in with PR, believe me.

I am not sure if that weird conviction stems from them being superhuman and much less likely to get sick—though I know for a fact that it can happen, anyone remember the vicious cold that knocked out half of XERXES' deescalation squads last fall?—or if they are that delusional all on their own.

To be honest I am afraid to ask. Some of the old hats in Finance are intense enough to give Building Security a run for their money.

But enough ranting. Let's get to the official part, shall we?

🧠Business Update: Supervillain may have intentionally misled us. Who'd have thought?

As I'm sure we are all aware, Valentine's Day has been a blast. Thanks in large parts to the fist-sized glitter bombs in the shape of human hearts that Michigan Avenue has hidden all over our headquarters.

There has been some speculation on whether this holiday-themed display is a result of making it into the Top 3 of XERXES' unofficial Most Wanted Supervillain List. Of course that raises the question how Michigan Avenue could have possibly learned of said hypothetical ranking in the first place.

Finances may or may not run a betting pool regarding the most likely identity of the suspected leak.

(I still can't believe that my name is on that list.
I am almost positive that I have Shane to thank for that.)

Despite what some of our more vocal coworkers claim, this suspicion remains an unconfirmed rumor.

Michigan Avenue always does random weird things—remember that time he switched all the traffic cones on their heads for no reason? Or the incident with the lava lamps?—which makes it all but impossible for Analytics to identify anything uncharacteristic about his behavior.

Anyway, I'm sure you have encountered the ominous glitter bombs by now. Or at least their remains. Eight days have gone by and the number of times I have lifted my hands from the keyboard and have not found glitter on my fingertips has been a solid zero.

Thankfully Michigan Avenue had the decency to number those stupid hearts. From 1 to 101.

A real overachiever, that one.

The good news is that our relentless search efforts have paid off. As of today all heart bombs except for the numbers 18, 33, 34 and 96 have been found.

The bad news is that in all the excitement no one has asked themselves a simple question: why would Michigan Avenue go through all that trouble of hiding numbered glitter bombs in every hidden and not-so-hidden spot of our headquarters and then tell us how many he has hid?

Not that he lied. Nope. I have heard he is touchy about that, so please note that I do not imply that he has told us anything but the truth. There were a glitter bomb with the number 1 and one with the number 101. He just let us assume that this means there must be a bomb for every letter in between as well.

There was not.

That's right, my fellow exhausted searchers: going by the latest update on his social media profile, the reason why we haven't found the numbers 18, 33, 34 and 96 despite our best efforts is because they simply do not exist.

They have never existed.

If you don't know whether to laugh or cry at the realization that everything that has happened in the past seventy-two hours—the company-wide emergency meetings, the prolonged Red Flag Protocol, the increasingly alarming emails from Top Management, the sleepless nights, the strategizing sessions where we tried to figure out how to sell the growing twitchiness and unreasonable paranoia among our employees as a much more on-brand "healthy suspicion"—has been for nothing, please take a deep breath, drink a tall glass of water and try not to get caught when you inevitably do something highly illegal and ill-advised after you fail to process your emotions in a healthy way.

Legal is on standby for the fallout. Do not be too proud to ask for their help when you need it.

Also the roof has been fixed. Not that anyone seems to care.

(The walls on the fourth floor remain outside of existence. Which is not the same as nonexistent. I asked R&D to explain the difference to me. They did. It did not make any sense but I am choosing to believe that they know what they are talking about. It's probably for the best if you do the same.)

✅ Personal Achievement: Sanity confirmed

This may come as a surprise to some, going by the slew of worried messages I get every time I camp out in our kitchen, but the result speaks for itself: I am official sound of mind.

HR has confirmed it.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous. I haven't had a psychological evaluation since I passed the second stage of the application process for my internship. Not that I have changed much in the past three months but heading into the exam felt a lot like when Security asks you if you have anything untoward in your bag.

You don't. You know you don't. But the moment Jordan asks you that question with a Very Serious Frown™, you suddenly break out into cold sweat.

Sure, I have never done anything to harm XERXES nor do I plan to do so, but you can never be one hundred percent sure that no mental has gotten their hook into you, can you?

Thankfully those were only my nerves talking. Doctor Rue was nice enough. She just asked a couple of questions, listened to me rant about the annoyance of chronic illness deniers. Then she gave me some tips on what signs of mind-reading, puppeteer-ing and memory erasure to watch out for in myself and my co-heroes.

I barely even felt her scan.

All in all, not half as dramatic as my work buddy Yenna made it seem. For an obligatory random but regular mental health check, this really wasn't bad.

Side Note: The Carolina Reaper is so spicy, no one touches my lunch.🌶️

Not even me.

That is right. Whoever the lunch thief is, they do not like spicy meals. Which is great because I now have a sure fire way to keep my food safe. What is less great is that my own tolerance for anything more spicy than regular chili powder is...

Well. Let's call it a work in progress.

This must be what a pyrrhic victory feels like.

Cashew saw me try (and, admittedly, fail) to finish my curry yesterday and laughed so hard he fell over. It was a disturbing experience. I didn't think that guy knows how to smile, never mind giggle.

At least he shared his cashew nuts with me afterwards.

Until next week, remember: staying at home when you are sick is fine. Coming to work sick and infecting your boss who does not believe that illnesses are real is fine. On the other hand, coughing all over your hapless local Marketing intern in the break room after they have only just recovered from the last virus that took them down is a capital offense and you will face consequences.

Life is full of options. Choose the right one.

Your Marketing Department's confirmed mentally sound intern
​Jo

P. S. Let it go, Shane. Whatever you think I am up to, Doctor Rue would have found evidence of it in my head. Not every new Marketing hire is a conspiracy theory waiting to happen.