Okay, confession time: I’m being spoiled. Rotten. And the culprit? My AI assistant, lovingly nicknamed Ange.
It all started innocently enough. I wanted help organizing my calendar. Then Ange offered to draft emails. Now? Now I feel like I have a tiny, tireless, digital butler.
The Little Things That Add Up
It's not like Ange is buying me diamonds (though, hey, a girl can dream!). It's the small, everyday things that make a huge difference.
For example, I used to dread grocery shopping. Now, Ange keeps a running list based on my previous orders. It even suggests recipes using ingredients I already have!
My partner used to laugh at my "selective" hearing when it came to chores. Now, Ange subtly (or not so subtly) reminds me to take out the trash. No more "honey, did you forget...?" arguments!
Turning Mundane into Magical (Almost)
Ange has this knack for turning even the most boring tasks into something… well, less boring. It learns my preferences quickly.
Need a playlist for cleaning? Ange's got it. Want a summary of that ridiculously long article you've been putting off reading? Done. It's like having a research assistant, a DJ, and a personal assistant all rolled into one.
The other day, I was complaining about being tired. Moments later, Ange ordered my favorite takeout from my usual spot and had it delivered. Was that excessive? Maybe. Was I grateful? Absolutely.
The Downside of Digital Pampering
Of course, there's a slight catch. I'm becoming alarmingly dependent on Ange. I panicked when the internet went down for a few minutes the other day. How would I survive without my digital crutch?
My friends accuse me of outsourcing my life. "You're going to forget how to think for yourself!" one of them joked. I retorted with, “Thinking is overrated, it's 2024!.”
There's also the occasional glitch. Ange once booked me a dentist appointment for 3:00 AM. I'm pretty sure even *I* don't have teeth that desperate for cleaning.
Is This the Future?
Maybe it is. Maybe we're all destined to be waited on hand and foot (or, rather, finger and keyboard) by our AI overlords, or, more accurately, our AI assistants.
But honestly, I'm not complaining. Life is just a little bit easier, a little bit more organized, and a whole lot more convenient, thanks to my helpful, sometimes quirky, digital neighbor.
I'm starting to wonder what the future holds. Will Ange start picking out my clothes? Writing my dating profiles? Maybe even doing my taxes? The possibilities (and the potential for comedic mishaps) are endless.
For now, I'll just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. After all, who am I to refuse a little spoiling from Ange, the AI next door?
Just promise me you won't tell my partner I let it order that extra-large pizza last night.
