Once I get into the swing of outsourcing my life to artificial intelligence, it becomes strangely addictive. “Find me a venue for my 30th birthday,” I type into Microsoft’s new mindbogglingly-smart chatbot ChatGPT, adding “without having to spend more than £300” because — as I have to keep reminding myself — this is a robot that is yet to appreciate my level of financial inadequacy.
The bot whirs into action, offering me a list of pubs and bars to fit my budget. I go for a second attempt and ask it to write a message to my parents about the issue of them maybe, just possibly (if they’d like to!) footing some of the bill on the night. While the bot types out a tactically-worded WhatsApp message, I ask my AI stylist to find me an outfit — fun but not too try-hard, parent-appropriate, oh and ideally something I can wear for my new work headshot next week.
