The inbox, flattened
Triaged, filed, unsubscribed and drafted — down to the handful of messages that genuinely need your face on them.
Private beta — she is nearly ready
An executive assistant
for your entire life.
Work Fairy runs the calendar, the inbox, the trips, the documents and Tuesday’s dinner. She remembers everything you tell her, she starts before you ask, and she works for the whole household — not just the one of you with a job title.
No spam. The occasional dispatch from the workshop, and a nudge when she is ready.
Runs on your own machine · Asks before anything it cannot undo · Has never once written “per my last email”
- While you were doing something better
- Rebooked the flight you were going to miss
- Cleared 41 emails
- Found a dentist slot that is not a Tuesday
- Wrote the board update from the transcript
- Meal-planned the week around one fussy child
- Worked out you cannot be in Bristol and on a plane
- Chased three invoices, politely, twice
- Renewed the passport before anyone noticed
- Filed the receipt you photographed in June
- Told them you were running late, before you were
Her repertoire
Everything you have been meaning to get to
Not the interesting parts of your job — those are still yours, which is rather the point. The other eighty percent she will take off your hands entirely.
The calendar, defended
Booked, moved, and declined on your behalf. She will protect a Thursday morning from four separate people who all think it is free.
Trips, end to end
Flights, hotels, the car, the visa you forgot about, and a packing list that knows it will be raining in Manchester.
The blank page, pre-filled
Briefs, board updates, the difficult email, the school letter. You start at a rough eighty percent instead of a blinking cursor.
A memory better than yours
Everything you have ever told her, and a great deal you have not. She does not need the context re-explained. Ever.
The whole household
Not just you. Partner, kids, the shared calendar, the group chat nobody reads, and whose turn it actually is.
Dinner, decided
A week of meals that use what is already in the fridge, respect the one who has gone vegetarian, and put the order in.
The maths of being somewhere
Travel time, traffic, the school run, and the quiet flag when two commitments are geographically fictional.
Meetings into decisions
Notes in, actions out. Owned, dated, and quietly chased so you never have to be the person who nags.
The chasing you hate
Invoices, refunds, warranties, the council. She has infinite patience and no ego, which is the ideal combination for a call centre.
Booked, not researched
The restaurant, the tickets, the plumber, the haircut. She reads the reviews so you never open fourteen tabs and then give up.
The things that creep up
Passports, insurance, the MOT, the subscription that quietly renewed at £340. She sees them coming a month out and says so.
The arrangement
Three steps, and one of them is sleeping
- 01
Tell her once
Say it, type it, or forward the email. She keeps it forever — so you never explain the school run, the aisle seat or your boss twice.
- 02
She goes first
She watches the calendar, the inbox and the mess, and starts on things before you have registered they are things. This is the whole point.
- 03
You find it done
A short note: what is finished, what needs a yes from you, and what she sensibly refused to touch without asking.
Overnight
while you were asleep · 4 things
- Rebooked BA2491 — the old one clashed with pickup
- Board update drafted from Tuesday’s transcript
- Half-term: three days covered, one to go
- Ordered your mum’s birthday present needs a yes
The fairy’s note
Cleared 41 emails, drafted six replies, moved Thursday. Flagged the flight — you cannot be in Bristol and on a plane. Left the contract alone; that one is above my pay grade.
“Fairy, sort my morning out”
Pick a fairy
She comes in several personalities
Same brain, same memory, entirely different colleague. Swap her character and her voice whenever you like — including mid-argument, which we do not recommend but cannot stop you doing.
Jeeves
Impeccable. Unflappable. Refers to your calendar as “the diary”.
“I have taken the liberty of declining Thursday. It was not a meeting. It was a mood.”
Nan
Warm, faintly nosy, adds a cardigan to every packing list.
“Booked your flu jab. Also you have not eaten a vegetable since Sunday, but I am not one to say.”
Dot
Dry. Minimal words, maximum done. Writes like she is driving.
“Flight moved. Dentist booked. Do not reply to Marcus yet. He is wrong.”
Coach
Relentlessly upbeat. Guards your deep work like a nightclub door.
“Blocked nine to eleven for the deck. Told three people no. They took it well.”
Sprinkle
For the family account. Runs entirely on enthusiasm and snacks.
“PACKED LUNCH: DONE. World Book Day is in nine days and we are NOT repeating last year.”
Ada
Precise, systems-brained, shows her working whether you asked or not.
“Rebooked you onto the 14:05. You have never once made the Schiphol connection.”
Or describe the assistant you wish you had, and she will be that instead.
The long memory
She remembers. That is the whole trick.
An assistant who needs the context re-explained every morning is not an assistant. It is a very polite stranger. Tell her something once and it is hers forever — the preferences, the people, the running jokes, the things you are quietly embarrassed to have forgotten.
- Your sister-in-law does not eat fish. You have forgotten this three times.
- Aisle seat. Always the aisle seat.
- The hotel in Lisbon with the good coffee and the truly hostile lift.
- Which of the two Sarahs is the one from procurement.
- That a “quick sync” with Dan has never once been quick.
- Your youngest’s shoe size as of March, and that it is now wrong.
Connected
She plugs into the mess you already have
No migration, no new app to live inside, no forty-minute onboarding call. She works in your tools, with access you grant one at a time and can pull back whenever you like.
- Gmail
- Outlook
- Google Calendar
- Apple Calendar
- Slack
- Notion
- Google Drive
- Linear
- Todoist
- Xero
- your supermarket
- your airline’s genuinely appalling website
…and more arriving weekly, in roughly the order people shout at us about them.
You do not need another chat window to type into. You need to come back to something finished.
Every other assistant waits for you to sit down and drive it. This one is judged on what is different when you get back.
The small print
Reasonable questions
And a few unreasonable ones, which are usually the more interesting.
Is she, you know… real?
She is software with an unusually good work ethic and a theatrical name. No wings, structurally speaking. Considerably more useful than a chat window in a sidebar.
What does she actually do, in one sentence?
Whatever an exceptional executive assistant would do — minus the salary, the desk, and the awkwardness of asking a human being to book your colonoscopy.
How is this different from every other AI thing?
The others wait for you to sit down and drive them. She goes first. You are not the pilot, and she is not a search box with feelings.
Can I really change her personality?
Yes, and you will. Everyone begins with the professional one, tries the upbeat one for a fortnight, and settles quietly on the sarcastic one. You can change her voice too, which is where most people lose an afternoon.
Does she do family things, or just work things?
Both, and she is arguably better at the family things — those are mostly logistics, and nobody in your house wants to own the logistics. She can hold the whole household: partner, kids, calendars, the group chat nobody reads.
Will she email something unhinged to my boss?
No. Anything irreversible — sending, spending, deleting, replying to actual humans — waits for a yes from you. She would rather leave a note than make a scene.
Will she spend my money?
She will get you all the way to the payment screen and then look at you meaningfully. The last click is always yours.
How much does she remember?
Alarmingly much, and only for you. That is the feature. An assistant who needs the context re-explained every morning is not an assistant, it is a very polite stranger.
Where does my data go?
She runs on your own machine and works on your own files. Every connection — mail, calendar, documents — is one you grant individually and can revoke without uninstalling anything or speaking to a salesperson.
What will she not do?
Anything with a solicitor in it. Anything she would have to lie to achieve. Sourdough. And she will not pretend to be you on a telephone call, however sweetly you ask.
What does she cost?
Undecided, honestly. Less than an assistant, more than nothing. Join the list and be among the first to have strong opinions about the pricing page.
Do I need to leave a tooth?
Please do not. We have been extremely clear about this internally and it keeps happening anyway.
Field notes
Building her in the open
Asking permission is a feature, not a failure
The instinct is to make the agent as autonomous as possible. That instinct is wrong, and the reason is not safety — it is trust.
Read it →Talking is the interface (and the hard part is the silence)
Voice makes leaving work out effortless. It also exposes every millisecond of latency you have been quietly tolerating.
Read it →Why the fairy works at night
Every AI assistant I have used waits for me to sit down and drive it. That is the bit I wanted to get rid of.
Read it →Leave something out tonight
She is in private beta with a small, patient group of people who have far too much admin. Put your name down and we will make room.
One email when she is ready. Nothing else, ever. She would be appalled.