8.00 A product manager at her desk at dawn with a cup of coffee. The screen shows three tidy lines, and behind her a small cube agent sweeps away a pile of support tickets.

She wakes up to work that is already done.

While she slept, the company kept working. Agents have ploughed through the whole weekend's support, found the patterns and put three sharp problems on her desk. She hasn't opened Jira in three weeks. Her first move today is to judge, not to dig.

9.00 A developer leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Three cards float in front of him: one with a tick, one with a cross, one with a pencil. Two small cube agents have put a stack of finished work on the desk.

He hasn't written a line of code today. Something has shipped anyway.

While he drank his first coffee, the fleet of agents finished what it had been building all night. Now three pull requests are waiting. He rejects one straight away, he can see it takes a shortcut. Fixes the second. Approves the third. It is nine o'clock. It is already in production.

10.00 A designer stands with her hand under her chin in front of five identical screen drafts on a wall. One is marked with a yellow dot. A small cube agent on a ladder hangs up the fifth.

She doesn't ask for one prototype. She asks for twenty.

A variant used to cost a week. Now it costs a moment. The designer stands in front of five finished flows that no human hand has touched, and the hard part now is choosing. The luxury problem has become the whole job.

11.00 Four people around a round table with no computers, in lively conversation. On the wall behind them a screen shows a single yellow tick.

The one meeting the machines can't hold.

No status. No updates. That is already written down. The four people in the room only talk about what no agent dares touch: what is actually the right thing to build? What do we say no to? And if it all falls over, who answers for it?

Lunch Four people eat lunch at a long table on a low raised platform. On the floor below them a row of small cube agents keeps working at tiny desks.

And they have barely started.

A year ago this was a team of twenty who built. Today it is four people who judge and a fleet of agents who build. They move twice as fast and hit closer to the mark. The future isn't on its way. It is already having lunch.

How much of this is true today?

Most of it. My own Monday looks like panels 1 and 2: an agent reads my dashboards and last week reconciled two months of accounts, and code from agents is something I plan first and approve afterwards. I’ve written about panel 3 in always ask for five versions. Panel 4 is where it lags: the meeting about what is the right thing to build rarely happens, because status meetings still fill the calendar.

The strip is based on something I read a couple of weeks ago. Elena Verna, Head of Growth at Lovable, wrote about what it’s like to work at an AI-native company: few titles, few meetings, agents as colleagues, and people who answer for the agents’ work holding up. Her point is that judgement has become the currency, because building has become cheap. That is the Monday I’ve drawn above.

I help companies get there as an advisor. If you’re about to start on your own Monday morning, write to me.