The current climate in our office is leaving me not just a teeny tiny bit antsy. I don’t want to leave my fate and retirement in other people’s hands. Especially if those hands are elbow-deep in the AI bandwagon. I say bandwagon because it’s starting to feel like it. Well, how our company is using it anyway.
Just today, we were told to use a company-issued tool in our “daily routine” no matter how small the tasks are. Very specific set of words. It brought to mind a comment from one developer I work with: I was used to train it. It really boils down to profit or what the company thinks is profit anyway.
Issues have been blowing up left, right, and center in production because of their overreliance in AI and not much faith in the employees they’ve had for years because they want everything fast, fast, and fast. The AI tool is hallucinating and the company is in denial.
I hit up ChatGPT (the irony) to sort out my priorities regarding some ideas I have to earn a bit on the side without sacrificing too much of my very precious free time. It gave some inputs that made sense and I might give it a go at some.
It’s been a while since I’ve thought about getting back to painting portraits. At least it’s something AI can’t replicate for now. I even bought some water-soluble oil paints when one of my university friends told me such a thing exists.
I thought about making digital designs and I made monthly contributions to our Pokémon Go community but I’ve always been hesitant about publishing them online because of the notoriety of piracy.
I’ve also thought about clay art and anything that might relate to sculpting because that’s one area I consider myself good at. I have a convection oven already in my cart and is ready for checkout once I have the funds.
It’s been more than a decade since I last held a proper paint brush and I’m looking forward to the day I get to paint again. I don’t have to hide from this one university teacher who asks me when I last painted every time we see each other. For some reason, I feel shame telling him I haven’t touched a paintbrush after completing my thesis. Life in this cortisol-riddled tech industry did that to me. I keep telling myself that I sold my soul in exchange for cash. Cash that I need to support an ailing mother and for activities I need to balance out the stress.
The year is almost up. Will I start that painting before it ends? Will I even have a job by then?
Time will tell and I hope it’ll be in my favor.
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