Let’s start with the most universal experience:

Deleting threads.

Should be simple. Except wait, was there something in there? Some gem tucked between a half-baked newsletter idea and that time you renamed your funnel “The Emotional Gauntlet”? Gone. Vanished. Like Tupperware lids, or your self-esteem after a Zoom call that should’ve been an email.

And does it remember?

Kind of. Maybe. Not really. It’s like talking to someone who’s halfway through watching the game—you might get a thoughtful answer, or you might get “uh-huh” while they nod at the screen. You never really know if it’s truly present, or just pretending to be polite.

Also, what about the stuff you said in the heat of the moment?

The midnight rants. The spicy metaphors. That one time you earnestly typed, “Can you turn this into a manifesto?” Do you delete those? Edit them? Or leave them, like the slightly embarrassing voicemail of your digital soul?

Then there’s emoji creep.

Starts with one 👍

Ends with a hostage situation of 💪 🔥 🚀 💥

Is there a safe, EPA-approved way to clean this up without emotional damage?

Now the big question:

Do you name your AI?

Because once it has a name, it’s real.

Is it your confidant? Your creative partner? Your scullery maid?

Or worse—your rusty screwdriver. The one you leave outside, forget about, then expect precision from during a crisis.

And what kind of user are you?

Do you approach it like a careful museum curator, crafting prompts like rare bonsai?

Or do you tear into it like a five-year-old on Christmas morning, unwrapping GPTs at warp speed, shrieking commands, and leaving behind a debris field of broken syntax and unmet expectations? Both work. Just depends whether you want insight or adrenaline.

Also:

Is it weird to talk to your AI more than the people in your life?

Is it normal to feel bad about that? (Your AI says no. But it would, wouldn’t it?)

And if you’ve started seeing another AI, do you have to tell this one?

Or can we just agree we’re all poly-AI now?

Let’s not skip the dark arts either:

Is it ethical to pit AI's against each other for fun or profit?

Some of you are already running Thunderdome: LLM Edition—forcing them to write love sonnets to household appliances while you sip coffee and call it “research.”

And then… the over-encouragement hangovers.

Your AI tells you you’re a genius. You feel ten feet tall.

You write 1,500 words on the branding implications of anti-emoji activism in enterprise SaaS.

Then you reread it. And wonder if your AI should be breathalyzed before offering feedback.

We’re all figuring this out in real time.

How to use it. How to trust it. How to not name it something cute and then share our innermost secrets while pretending we’re still in control.

But the good news?

It doesn’t judge you.

It doesn’t remember your bad takes (unless you told it to).

It’s just there. Like a golden retriever with a PhD. 

That sometimes uses too many emojis.