This Friday never ends.

(And I don't mean that in a good way.)

Dear fellow world savers

It is 10:43 am on Friday, the 23rd of January, as I type out our latest company newsletter. It will be 10:43 am on Friday, the 23rd of January when you receive the 'new message' notification.

Perhaps you will click on it immediately. Perhaps you will ignore it. Perhaps you are in a meeting or out on a mission. Perhaps you are getting up from your seat now, tired of the silent judgement the 78 unread emails in your inbox radiate and hope that downing another too-hot, too-watery coffee will breathe some motivation back into you.

It will not.

Perhaps you will you get held up in the break room for a couple of minutes, catching someone from Finance up on the latest gossip, now that they have survived the literal nightmare that has been last year's annual accounts.

Like how ridiculous the 'Meet Your Heroes' campaign is that PR is trying to shove down our throats. I swear, they are encrouching on what is obviously Marketing's territory with the subtlety of a drunk elephant and less understanding of the purpose of our social media accounts than god has given a disoriented grasshopper.

Urgh.

Just thinking about the two-hour-meeting scheduled this afternoon with Conny and Shane from PR to "align our mission" gives me a headache. At least Conny hasn't made me the center of all her conspiracy theories.

In any case, eventually the conversation is going to taper off and you will find yourself meandering slowly back to your own desk. Where you perhaps heave a sigh from the bottom of your tired heart before you bend to the inevitable and read this message.

At exactly 10:43 am on Friday, the 23rd of January.

I know this not because I am psychic or have a gift of foreknowledge or something equally ridiculous. Nope. I know it because as of what feels like twenty-eight hours ago but might just have been four, I genuinely have no idea, time has stopped working.

Which is... honestly a lot less fun than I would have thought. Definitely not the city-wide crisis I have been bracing myself for after Data Analytic's warning last week. But I suppose it wouldn't really be a crisis if it was predictable.

More on our situation—and what it means for your weekend plans—in the business update.

🧠 Business Update: Does it count as working overtime when five o'clock never comes?

HR has answered the inquiry on everyone's mind with their usual lack of patience for the world's stupidity: No.

And before anyone gets any bright ideas ("anyone" being me): we are expected to keep working like normal. This means no going home early because of "temporal non-motion sickness". Also work hours will not be calculated based on the "inherently subjective emotional experience of time passing".

Which, not gonna lie, feels a lot like someone up the chain is making lemonade out of some very freaky lemons.

I have to say, being stuck in a literally endless workday is not what I pictured my first brush with a large-scale supervillain attack to look like. I was thinking more along the lines of fire, explosions and screaming. You know, the classics. Or possibly just some exaggerated eyerolls and "Here we go again"s from my veteran colleagues.

Although, now that I think about it, that has pretty much been Yenna's reaction to HR's memo.

Maybe I am overreacting?

Here is what happened: as you have undoubtedly noticed, time has stopped moving forward at 10:43 am on Friday morning. The clocks are still ticking, counting the seconds passing us by, but the minutes and hours do not move forward. Neither has any digital clock I have tracked down.

The problem is not limited to electronics. Even the sun itself, a rare sight in our lovely city at this time of the year, has not moved from its position, hovering over our suspiciously unsuspicious neighboring building at just the right angle to cast an annoying glare on my computer screen.

It should have moved on after twenty minutes like the sun is wont to do, but of course it has not been twenty minutes because time is acting out of order.

In a very general, very all-encompassing way.

If you haven't read the latest update yet, Building Security has issued a warning not to leave the premise under any circumstances until "time is working within known paramaters" again. Please take this seriously. I have spent my free time before my 11 o'clock meeting that may never happen to check in with R&D and they have informed me that we may be experiencing a localized time dissolution.

Should this be the result of a coordinated attack, it may well be anchored to some part of this building. Putting more distance between you and the suspected anchor point could either weaken the effect of the time dissolution or amplify it.

To quote my favorite labcoat source Tess:

"It's a toss-up, really. Like flipping a coin. No way to know until someone tries. Problem is, if it lands on the wrong side you probably won't get time back when we manage to fix the issue. Once you cut your tie with the anchor, you are out. As in out, out. For better or worse. So, you know. Maybe don't push your luck."

With those words Tess pulled her protective glasses back on, clicked her ball pen twice and walked back into one of the sealed off containment cells they are using for elaborate tests with the air of a general leading the charge into hostile territory. The cells are soundproof but before the door slid shut behind her I heard the distinct sound of someone cackling and a hoarse voice screaming "I knew it! I knew it! Time is an illusion! Linearity is an illusion! EVERYTHING IS AN ILL-".

Then the door slammed shut, cutting them off.

I hope you, like me, feel better knowing that there are true professionals working hard on finding a solution to our predicament.

While we wait for the results of whatever experiments they are cooking up, let us focus on what we do know. Which, spoiler alert, is not as much as Building Security would like.

1. Everyone in this building is suffering from the same lack of passing time.
2. It is unclear whether people outside our headquarters are affected as well. Attempts to establish contact with the outside world have been unsuccessful—though whether the time dissolution or the building-wide shutdown are to blame for that has not been disclosed.
3. Although we currently appear to exist outside of time, I can personally attest that hunger, thirst and the need for sleep remain very real needs. On a related note, the break rooms have never been so full and our vending machine is out of snacks. And raspberry lemonade.
4. So far, we have received neither threats nor demands nor an unnecessarily long gloating explanation for our situation, curtesy of a theatrical supervillain.
5. There is no known supervillain on our watchlist with a gift that would explain what we are collectively experiencing right now.
   I assume that is security's code for "we are all in the dark" but maybe I am projecting.

As you can see, the list is neither as long nor as detailed as we might hope. However, Building Security is working on several leads in close cooperation with R&D. It is a wonder what some common ground has done for this particularly unlikely alliance.

In the meantime, there is not much else to do but go about our day.

If you are in need of a break or an endless minute of sleep, HR is handing out pillows and blankets.

Be aware that they refuse to get involved in the fight for the beds in the sleep rooms on the second and third floor because they "cannot think of a single thing they would like to get dragged into less". And also because we are "all adults, who can figure out a schedule for themselves", but I have the feeling they just added that part to sound professional.

Please be aware that you are expected to clock out if you take a nap. Whether time works or not, the rules are the rules for a reason. Also I do not believe that today is a good day to ragebait HR.

Call it a gut feeling.

✉️ Just So You Know: Your Thursday night plans are cancelled

Provided that time restarts at some point, of course. If it doesn't, you will still be stuck here at Headquarters, so I suppose it does not make much of a difference.

In other words: Congratulations! You are hereby officially asked to join to the company-wide 2025 review meeting.

Top Management will send out the invite within the next couple of hours. Due to the expected turnout, the entire seventh floor has been reserved for the occasion. Please ensure that your company ID is valid and the personal information in your file is up to date.

After last year's attempted invasion, Building Security is going to uphold a zero tolerance policy for funny business, sarcastic one-liners, home-made snacks and supposed jokes about secret aspirations to become a supervillain.

You have been warned.

Furthermore please note that:

1. Attendance is optional. Meaning that your absence will be noted in your file and used against you at the earliest opportunity.
2. Top Management would like everyone to be a part of the experience and give you all an opportunity to speak your mind. Please share your work highlight of 2025 as well as your ideas on where XERXES, as a company, could improve in the form HR has posted on the intranet.
3. HR has assured me that the answers will be anonymized and that we are all excepted to act like we believe that.
4. Food and drinks will be provided.
5. Note that the experimental substances offered by R&D for harmless testing purposes are to be consumed only after Director X has finished his presentation. Should you choose to try one, please exercise caution and remember to stay within sight of the security cameras at all times. Chances are you will not remember much of the night and R&D would like to get some usable data from this year's event.
6. All entertainment acts are banned for the evening. This includes but is not limited to clowns, magicians, animals (Krista's service dog being the sole exception), comedians, circus performers, wanna-be Santa Clauses and mime artists. If you encounter anyone fitting that description, alert Building Security. Then find cover.

I look forward to seeing you all there! Although what I look forward to the most right now is getting to go home at some point. I like you and I really like this job, but I like my own bed too.

🤬 Consistent food thievery drives local intern to the brink of madness

Compared to the on-going time management crisis this may seem like a negligible issue, but being stuck inside the same minute of the same day has given me a lot of time to contemplate another problem that I have been unable to solve so far. Because despite my clear warning someone keeps stealing my lunch.

Do I, personally, and we, as a company, have more important things to worry about right now? Possibly. Am I going to let it go?

Not. On. Your. Life.

To be clear: I was ready to make my peace with those first six stolen lunches. People do stupid things, I get that. I am certainly no exception.

You can only use that excuse so often before it wears thin, though. Everything has a limit. I am on my fourteenth lost lunch now. This has gone way past any form of acceptable.

My perpetually unimpressed work buddy Yenna thinks I am exaggerating—spoken like someone who has never saved the last chocolate brownie until after they have pulled an all-nighter studying for their end-of-year exams, just to find out that their sibling has eaten it in the meantime—but I am sick of preparing meals that I don't get to eat.

Especially since I am apparently the only one with this problem and therefore targeted for a specific reason.

(Not to put myself down but it is definitely not because of my cooking skills.)

I have tried to be reasonable. I have tried to avoid misunderstandings.

I have labeled my lunch box. I have put a sticky note with a clear "This belongs to Jo, DO NOT TOUCH" warning on top of it. I have covered my entire lunch box in sticky notes with detailed descriptions of what will happen to anyone who dares to take it.

And you know what all that effort has gotten me?

An empty container with a single neon green sticky note on top of it. With a smiley drawn on it.

The audacity.

I have NEVER wanted to peacefully discuss a person's life choices in great detail so much in my life.

I am so angry, I had to take three breaks in between writing this because I was shaking too hard to type.

@My own personal nemesis: This is your last chance. Cease and desist your vile thievery before I take my boss up on her offer and get HR involved. I gave them a dead plant yesterday. They like me.

(As for Suspect No. 1—you know, the weirdo that lurks in our kitchen, is allergic to social interaction and does not appear to work on our floor, even though only employees are allowed anywhere beyond the entrance hall unaccompanied—he still refuses to react to any of my attempts to start a friendly interrogation.

I did get one (1) acknowledging nod from him on Wednesday. I am not sure whether to call that progress or an impressive stone-walling move on his part.

Since he refuses to introduce himself, I have decided to call him "Cashew". "Suspect No. 1" is a bit long, not to mention that this is XERXES. There are plenty of suspects to go around. Even if they are usually found in the interrogation rooms and holding cells, not hanging out in our break room.

I told Cashew as much.

He didn't look impressed by my reasoning, but to be honest he always looks like that. His face is as emotive as a brick wall.

Whatever. If Cashew wanted a cooler nickname, he should have better taste in snacks. Or answered my questions.)

Anyway, the important part to keep in mind is that no one has died over my mysteriously vanished lunch. Yet. Not even today, on this never-ending Friday, when I could have really used a full meal. Instead I had to fight off half the PR Department to get my hands on our vending machine's last protein bar.

If this trend continues, I cannot promise to keep it that way.

Until next week I hope we will make it into the next week. I hope Friday, the 23rd of January will finally end. Most of all, wherever you are right now, I hope this email finds you on any other time than 10:43 am. Truly, I do.

We all deserve to have our Friday end at some point. Except maybe my lunch thief. He can be fed to the Cursed for all I care.

Your Marketing Department's timelessly tired intern
​Jo

P. S. Shane. I know that you take the words "unreasonable paranoia" as a personal challenge but if you try to blame me for the time dissolution again, you seriously overestimate my abilities. I would be flattered if I was not so confused. What have I ever done to you?

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