The dregs of I.T.

 By October, our official software suite had become so bloated with mandatory AI plugins, zero-trust authenticators, and ten-step verification codes that opening a simple Word document required the clearance level of a NATO officer. Naturally, the Marketing department stopped using it altogether. I discovered this when I went to investigate why Marketing hadn't logged a single helpdesk ticket in three weeks. I walked into their corner section and found a sprawling, completely off-grid digital paradise. They had bought a cheap consumer Wi-Fi router, taped it inside a loose ceiling tile, powered it with an extension cord plugged into the water cooler, and built their entire department operations on a web of free messaging apps, unauthorized cloud drives, and home-brewed automation scripts. Their productivity was terrifying. Campaigns that used to take six weeks were going out in six minutes. "Dave, don't shoot," the Head of Marketing whispered, sliding a cup of actual e...

 The landlord installed "AI Attention & Sentiment Cameras" in our ceiling panels last week, claiming they were necessary for "Corporate Wellness Compliance." The cameras were programmed to analyze employee facial expressions and feed real-time metrics into a central "Happiness Index." Unfortunately, the AI had been trained on polished Silicon Valley stock photos and had no context for the face of an IT professional staring at a corrupted network driver. By Tuesday morning, my standard expression—a neutral, slightly deadpan stare—was flagged by the system as "Level 4 Workplace Agitation." The ceiling camera directly above my desk clicked, pulsed a bright pink light, and the building’s automated HVAC system began softly blowing lavender-scented air onto my head while playing ambient elevator jazz from the ceiling speaker. "What is that noise?" Gary from Sales shouted over the jazz. "The building thinks I’m unhappy," I called...