Tell me you're addicted to AI without telling me you're addicted to AI
You guys keep liking and commenting on my confession posts, so here's another one. I wish at least one of these confessions wasn't real. They're all real (sad face). For the AI nerds in here (so, all of us): I think I'm addicted. It's worse than being hooked on a video game. A game at least has the decency to feel like a waste of time. This feels productive. Sometimes it actually is. At 1am, running six seven sessions at once? Not so much. ------------------------------------ What my nights have turned into ------------------------------------ Multiple Claude sessions going at once. When it got late and I knew I should be in bed, I'd flip every one of them with the /remote-control command so I could keep feeding the machine from my phone. Lying there in the dark. Waiting for the little dot to show up that means it's done thinking. Fire off the next instruction. Wait for the dot again. It's a slot machine. Drop the coins, pull the lever, watch for the dot. Like a freaking addict. One evening this week (I think it was Tuesday) I had three sessions all editing the same end-of-day file, and they kept overwriting each other's work. I'm sitting there getting genuinely angry. Then I caught myself cursing out a piece of software. Out loud. "You BLEEP, you broke it again." And I stopped. It's a machine, Ruben. Why are you getting triggered by a machine? And who's really doing the breaking? ------------------------------------ So I asked the machine why I can't quit the machine ------------------------------------ I did what any self-respecting addict does. I used the thing I'm addicted to, to figure out why I'm addicted to it. I'd read The Goal a while back (the Theory of Constraints novel everybody in operations swears by). I reopened it, had Claude walk me through the main concepts and tie them back to my business. And it clicked: I'm the bottleneck. My time, my attention. Not my team. Not my tools. Me. Then came the part that actually stung. The optimizing itself was the bottleneck. I'd been spending multiple two-hour sessions buffing an end-of-day routine whose entire job is to take fifteen minutes. The thing I kept "improving" stopped being my constraint years ago. I just couldn't put it down.