A Time Zone Of Our Own

At work there are digital clocks all over that I have to use to know when to log on and go on breaks and so forth. The clocks on all the computers are all different, some slow, some fast. Anyway, the clocks are all on strike. They just go over and over the same hour, hour after hour, day after day. Most of them go over six o'clock over and over, but I noticed one had to be different and it was fixating on seven. So now we're supposed to go by whatever time the clock on our computer says. I asked three supervisory type people before I found somebody that knew what was going on. All the clocks on the walls are ruled by a master clock downstairs, who has apparently had a stroke. I don't know what kind of clock they have controlling all the rest of the clocks, but it must take a long time to get a new one because this has been driving me crazy for days now. I don't know how many times I've looked over at the clock on the wall, even though I know subconsciously that I'm wasting my time looking. They should just get a bunch of those clocks that get their orders from some mysterious master clock in space. I thought that's what they were, until work turned into the Twilight Zone set on perpetual six o'clock.