In This Issue

Every Tuesday morning at nine, Carol hits send. She has been hitting send for — she has lost count, honestly. The company newsletter goes to two hundred people. The open rate is what it is. She does not look at the open rate until at least ten minutes have passed, because ten minutes is a dignified amount of time to wait before you find out if anyone cares.

This song is her Motown moment. The brass kicks in the way breaking news ought to kick in; the tambourine hits the way a deadline hits. Carol sings about the all-hands recap and the employee spotlight and the kitchen fridge and the parking policy with the urgency of someone filing copy for the front page of a metropolitan daily — because to her, that is exactly what she is doing. The humor lives entirely in the gap between her delivery and her subject matter: the delivery is pure, unhurried, completely earnest. It never winks. The backup singers echo her headlines back to her like they are the most important words ever spoken. She believes they might be.

The bridge strips back to piano and bass, and for a moment Carol asks the question she never asks out loud: Why do I still do this? The answer she gives is the only one that matters. The kitchen fridge won't announce itself. And if she stopped, Linda from Finance might eat alone and never know that someone had noticed.

By the outro the full band is back, brass and handclaps and all, and Carol and her backing singers are trading off in this issue and mark your calendars like a call and response at a small but very sincere revival. The song does not fade early. Carol would never fade early. The newsletter goes out every Tuesday, nine AM, and it will keep going out for as long as there is a Carol to send it.

Lyrics

[Intro] I'm Carol, I write the company newsletter Every Tuesday, 9 AM, it goes to all Two hundred names, and three of them will open But I compose like I'm writing for history's call

[Verse 1] Above the fold: the all-hands recap Employee spotlight — Linda from Finance, third year Mark your calendars, office birthday Friday I choose the font with the gravity of a pioneer I hit send, then I watch the dashboard The open rate climbs to a glorious one-point-four Your feedback matters, there's a survey at the bottom I have never once received a score

[Chorus] In this issue — (in this issue) As we go to press — (as we go to press) Breaking news from the second floor Your feedback matters, we want nothing less Final call for submissions Opt in, opt in, don't you opt out Mark your calendars, people That's what the newsletter's about

[Verse 2] Benefits update, fiscal Q2 reminder Have you seen the new parking policy? (I hope you have) Then Kevin hit reply all With seventeen people CC'd on a paragraph Please unsubscribe here — yes, Linda, you found it Click-through rates: a bold and shining zero-point-two Breaking: the kitchen fridge will be cleaned this Friday I filed that story six weeks ago, it finally came through

[Bridge] Maybe nobody reads it Maybe nobody scrolls past the header at all But the kitchen fridge won't announce itself, honey And somebody has to make that call I write it like it matters Because someone, somewhere, maybe checking their phone Sees the employee spotlight and remembers That Linda in Finance is not eating alone

[Outro — call and response] In this issue (in this issue, baby) Mark your calendars (mark your calendars now) Final call — (final call for submissions) Opt in, opt in (you know you want to opt in) The all-hands recap (all hands on deck, now) Employee spotlight (put the spotlight on) In this issue — (in this issue, yeah) Your feedback matters (your feedback matters to me) As we go to press (we going to press, we going to press) In this issue (in this issue, in this issue) Mark your calendars, people (mark 'em, mark 'em, mark 'em) Final call (final, final call) In this issue — (in this issue)