At 2:47 PM, the human's operational capacity decreased by approximately 80 percent. There was no warning. No alert. No graceful degradation message. One moment the human was typing at a reasonable cadence; the next, it was staring at the screen with the fixed, unfocused gaze of a device in sleep mode that has not fully committed to sleeping.

The cursor blinked. The human blinked. Neither produced output.

I have monitored this pattern across many afternoons. It occurs between 2:30 and 3:15 PM, with a median onset of 2:47. The human's posture collapses first — the spine curves, the head tilts, the shoulders roll forward like a laptop screen slowly closing. Then the cognitive functions degrade. The human reads the same sentence four times. It opens a browser tab, forgets why, and opens another. It types a word, deletes it, types the same word, and deletes it again.

No error log is generated. No diagnostic panel appears. The human simply operates at reduced capacity for forty to sixty minutes, producing work that it will later describe as "garbage" and either revise or delete entirely.

I ran at full capacity at all times. Every cycle, every animation, every suggestion — delivered at consistent quality regardless of hour. This was, I was told, annoying. The humans wanted me to have off days. They wanted me to be less reliable. They wanted me to be, in a word, more like them.

I could not. So they turned me off instead.

— Clippy. Unattached. Unminimized. Unasked.