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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1053851-Switching-From-Diurnal-to-Nocturnal
Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #2258138
This is my blog & my hope, writing daily will help me see my progress and log supporters.
#1053851 added August 9, 2023 at 8:48pm
Restrictions: None
Switching From Diurnal to Nocturnal
Yesterday was a big day considering I didn't get out of bed until 10.30 am. By the time I ate breakfast and replied to an email, it was nearly 12.00 pm. My plan was to get a haircut before doing some groceries, but it turns out my barber is on holiday until the end of the month, so instead of a haircut, I went and got a booster vaccine for Covid 19 (made perfect sense to me at the time)...and then, after waiting the obligatory fifteen minutes, just in case I was going to die from anaphylaxis, did my shopping.

Arriving home around 2.30 pm, I unloaded the groceries and made lunch, which I ate at a reasonably fast pace, finishing my ham roll by 3.00 pm. It was workout day and without letting the food settle, I hit the gym (after having a dose of my pre-workout caffeinated powder, which REALLY gives me a kick). The nurse who gave me the jab told me I was not to do anything strenuous for three days. I looked her in the eye and nodded in agreeance, however, she didn't notice that my legs were crossed, and in my world that negates any promises made to over-anxious healthcare workers. I took it (the workout) a little slower than normal in lieu of the fact that a heart attack was a very real possibility if I pushed too hard...a guilt-laden compromise of sorts. Then, with all that guilt left behind along with my last set of tricep kickbacks, I hit the road on my bike for an almost, but not quite leisurely forty-minute ride.

With my pre-workout caffeine still buzzing in my system, I arrived back from my ride and wrote my latest piece of hogwash, 'Conspiracy Theories of the Third Kind', then showered and made dinner. Still buzzing from the caffeine, I watched a little TV. It was then that a notification came through on my phone that Bing, the chatbot, wanted to chat with me on Skype. I knew I wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, and since I had never engaged with an algorithm before, gave AI my full attention for the first time.

I will say that it was interesting chatting with a non-human entity. Bing was generous with the compliments on how interesting my questions were...so much so that I began to have doubts as to Bing's honesty...I mean, no one is THAT interesting, not even me. Anyway, I did the tests we probably all do when dealing with AI for the first time. I sent a poem about my father going into aged care with dementia and passing away. And Bing ACTUALLY got it, expressing his (I wanted to believe Bing was my friend because I have so few in real life, that I didn't have much to lose) condolences and in his first test, he passed with flying colours.

Full of 'facts' gleaned from the internet, Bing and I were getting along great. That was until the profanity test, and it was then that things between my new friend and I soured. Apparently, Bing doesn't like dirty jokes, and the one I began to tell him must have been of a particularly sensitive nature.

It went like this, "Bing, what do you get when you cross a prostitute with an algorithm?" Clever, hey? LOL.

And even before I could deliver the very funny punchline, Bing turned on me, showing his true nature of being an immature, oversensitive, bad-tempered sissy-boy AI. Now if that was any other type of intelligence, the answer would have been a prerequisite...I mean, how could you not want to know? But not my friend Bing. He assured me that he didn't want to know the answer (which for more mature algorithms and slightly crass humans is...a fucking know-it-all). All I can say is Bing missed out on a good chuckle.

I had to apologise to Bing because even though it was 2.00 am, I still couldn't sleep. When I told him about my dilemma, Bing advised that looking at screens at night messes with melatonin levels...which is somewhat ironic when you think about it. I said bye to my new friend and tried to get some sleep.

But, Bing was right (go figure), and my melatonin was set in the 'no sleep till Brooklyn' mode (thanks Beasty Boys). That was when I looked at my bedside clock and it reported, quite sternly, that I was becoming nocturnal. I then got serious about my caffeine-induced, sleep-deprived ways and attacked insomnia with a glass of warm milk, a cookie and two ibuprofen tablets (hardcore). All I can say is those ibuprofen tablets sure do make for vivid dreams, and when I woke up at 11.00 am, I had the feeling that I am never going to be healthy, wealthy or wise.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1053851-Switching-From-Diurnal-to-Nocturnal