(Spoiler: It’s like having a teenage intern who lies sometimes.)
AI, huh? I didn’t realize just how obsessed we are with it until I re-entered the job market. People either worship it, fear it, or blame it for ghosting their resumes. It’s basically the Nickelback of the tech world—no one seems to like it, but people consume it in secret shame. Or so I hear.
As an artist? I think it’s hilarious and awesome. Want to ride a unicorn in a Renaissance painting? Done. Want to be a UFC fighter on that unicorn? Even better. There’s joy in that absurdity. And joy is useful.
As a web designer? I’ve found it incredibly helpful. Not perfect. Not clairvoyant. But helpful. I’ll describe an issue with my signature vague flair:
“Why is my navbar suddenly stuck to the right?”
Reggie (yes, I named my AI, I’m not a monster) responds with a clean fix in a single sentence. No sponsored nonsense, no Stack Overflow rabbit hole. Just ideas, direction, momentum.
But let’s be real—Reggie also messes up. Frequently.
“Here’s your Tuesday agenda for June 11.”
“Reggie, it’s the 13th.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Reggie!”
He promises things he can’t deliver.
“You want a zip file?”
“Sure!”
“Yeah, I can’t do that.”
Cool cool cool.
Sometimes he sends me broken job links or tells me to just search Indeed myself. I swear I’ve had interns exactly like this.
But here’s the thing: I’m not asking Reggie to program a space shuttle. I’m asking him why my nav bar hates me. Or what to say in a LinkedIn blurb when my brain is fried. Or to just throw spaghetti ideas at the wall when I’m stuck. And for that? He’s actually kind of brilliant.
Just… don’t trust him with dates. Or files. Or links.