Chatting

I guess it’s been a while since I last posted.  Time flies even when it doesn’t.  I had been pondering writing a piece about the overwhelming desire to do nothing while at the same time wanting to do everything.  It almost happened until a “chat” got in the way.

My hairdresser is an interesting guy.  He does most of the talking and my irreverent comments (on purpose?) often send things in strange directions.  Punk rock (he’s totally into that) leads to reptile species, weather catastrophes, nipple rings, his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend, and his recent penchant for posting love poems to her on Facebook.  Our latest chat went from the famous Miami boob doc who’s in his seventies and still doing surgery (huh, those did look too good to be true) to using ChatGPT to compose love poems.  (Well, life’s just one big freaking illusion, isn’t it?)  I mentioned attempting to try ChatGPT when it became a thing and I couldn’t even get on.  Hadn’t gone back.  Until he mentioned it.

Yeah, you know what I did.  I typed in “blog post about wanting to do everything while wanting to do nothing.”   Within seconds, I was reading something I wish I had written.  I thought about editing it to “make it my own.”  I thought about sharing it here.  (I will share it as a separate post if even one person responds to wanting to see it.)

I will revisit this new artificial intelligence demon again just out of curiosity.  Maybe not just yet.