The Day the Outlook Died (and the $0 Fix)

Let me start by saying…I feel horrible.

Today our email stopped working across the entire firm. We’re not huge—about 30 people, most in one office—but we are glued to email all day, every day. When my inbox froze, I did what any responsible adult trained by IT would do: restart before calling the help desk. (Because let’s be honest, that’s Step One in the hymnbook.)

On my way to the break area, I could hear the bullpen chorus: “Is your email down?” “Mine too.” “Did Wi-Fi die?” It was like whalesong, but with Outlook.

My desk is right outside the CFO’s office (my boss). When her email started failing, I got on the phone with IT. Context: we have one in-house IT hero and an external vendor for any “bigger” problems. Additional context: I’m one of two people who handle AP/AR…and the other one, Debbie, resigned a month and a half ago.

Two hours in, the executive team is simmering. Pressure rolls downhill; I keep calling the IT vendor for updates like an air traffic controller with a caffeine problem. Was I my best, most professional self? No. But the CFO is not a happy angry person.

By hour three, chaos had settled in like a weighted blanket. Leadership grabbed a conference room. Two different IT humans were now in our server closet unplugging, replugging, and doing rituals I’m pretty sure void warranties. Words like “DNS propagation” and “transport rules” floated past like ghosts.

At hour six (about 4:00 p.m.), a single lightbulb flickered—in my head, only. I remembered Debbie’s old mailbox, which had been delegated to me when she left. I…hadn’t checked it. Debbie signed up for everything from pens to planets; it was a full-time job to unsubscribe.

I opened it.

Fifteen emails from Microsoft: “Payment unsuccessful” … “Delinquent notice” … “Service suspension pending.” All neatly timestamped, all patiently ignored. The AP card on file? Deb’s old corporate card—deactivated when she left.

I updated the payment method.

Magic. Email came back like a sunrise. The server closet stopped making “what if?” sounds. The CFO’s calendar repopulated like nothing happened.

I did not tell a soul.

-Anonymous, from a double incognito browser....

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