What did you do last week?
Current events. 850 words, 4 minute read. With Claude Sonnet and Midjourney.
Sarah Chen's coffee splashed across her keyboard as another government server went dark. On her monitor, the employee tracking dashboard flickered: fifty-seven Forest Service accounts deactivated in the last hour. The timestamp on Musk's email - 2PM on a Saturday - pulsed like a warning light.
She grabbed a handful of tissues, dabbing at the keys. Under the tissues, last month's regulatory amendment peeked out – the one she'd helped push through by translating complex forest management protocols into simple infographics that even the most attention-deficit tech executives could grasp. "Know your audience," her mentor had always said.
Her phone lit up with Charlie's text: "They got Peterson. Complete lockout. His twenty-year reforestation project – all the data, just... gone."
Sarah's fingers stilled on the tissues. Through her window, the ancient Douglas firs stood sentinel in the pre-dawn darkness. Those trees had survived centuries of human whims: gold rushes, clear-cutting, acid rain. Their branches now sheltered three endangered species she'd spent the past six years protecting through carefully worded policy proposals and creative interpretations of existing regulations.
A soft thud drew her attention as another brick of emergency printer paper hit the hallway floor. Someone had set the network printers to automatically print every termination notice. Classic IT resistance – working within the system to jam it up.
"Smart," she murmured to Fernando, her office ficus. Its leaves drooped slightly – she'd missed their Friday watering during the bark beetle crisis. She poured half her remaining coffee into his pot. "We all adapt differently, don't we?"
Her office door creaked open. Charlie slipped in, her usually pristine uniform wrinkled, badge askew. "Martinez is in full meltdown. Says we're facing a complete reorganization. They're already talking about streamlining – private contractors, automated monitoring systems." She collapsed into the visitor's chair. "Twenty minutes till your deadline."
Sarah reopened the email:
*To all Federal Employees:*
*Effective immediately, list 5 specific tasks completed in the previous work week. Responses required by 11:59 PM Monday. Non-compliance will result in immediate termination.*
*- Elon Musk*
*Chief Efficiency Officer*
*United States Federal Government*
"Remember that heritage oak petition?" Sarah's fingers moved to her keyboard. "When they wanted to cut it down for the new admin building?"
Charlie nodded. "You buried them in so much paperwork about historical significance they finally gave up." A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Didn't you cite some obscure bylaw about trees that had witnessed federal policy decisions?"
"The oak's branches stretched over the spot where the 1952 Forest Protection Act was signed," Sarah said, typing. "Sometimes the best way to protect something is to speak the language of those trying to cut it down."
*Dear Mr. Musk,*
*Thank you for your interest in my weekly activities. Please find below five tasks completed last week:*
*1. Conducted extensive field research on vertical organizational structures in nature, specifically studying how bark beetles have created a highly efficient top-down management system that's absolutely killing it in the pine sector.*
*2. Facilitated multiple stakeholder meetings between various branches of forest management, ensuring we weren't barking up the wrong tree with our resource allocation.*
*3. Implemented new fire prevention protocols, because unlike certain social media platforms, we believe preventative measures shouldn't go up in smoke.*
*4. Maintained detailed logs of forest density metrics, as we've found that proper spacing is essential for growth (this applies to both trees and employees).*
*5. Engaged in knowledge transfer sessions with Indigenous leaders who have successfully managed these lands for thousands of years without requiring weekly productivity reports.*
*I trust this helps you get to the root of government efficiency. Feel free to leaf through our departmental reports for more detailed information.*
*Best regards,*
*Sarah Chen*
*Forest Service Technician*
*USDA*
Her cursor hovered over the send button. On her desk, the pine cone paperweight caught the first rays of dawn – a gift from the Indigenous youth program she'd protected from three previous budget cuts by reclassifying it as a scientific monitoring initiative.
Behind her, the ancient Douglas firs cast long shadows across her degrees, her certifications, her field photographs of forests saved and restored. Six years of carefully planting seeds of protection within the tangles of bureaucracy, of nurturing preservation through the loopholes and clauses of policy documents.
"You can't regrow two hundred years of forest from a quarterly profit report," she said, clicking send.
The response was immediate: "Message received. Status: Under Review."
Charlie gripped the armrest. "What now?"
Sarah stood, shrugging on her field jacket. She checked her pocket for her tablet – the one loaded with six years of backdated field reports, stored safely on private servers. "Now? We do what forests have always done." She grabbed her field kit, already mentally composing her next policy revision. "We adapt. We grow back stronger. And we keep very, very good records."
Through her window, the Douglas firs swayed gently in the morning breeze, their shadows painting shifting patterns across her desk. In his corner, Fernando's leaves caught the light, each one a tiny document of survival.