I know.

To some people, this sounds small.

A workflow.

An email trigger.

A draft that writes itself while I’m busy overthinking my breakfast.

But for me, it felt like standing at the edge of a version of myself I had only ever imagined.

Press enter or click to view image in full size

Today, I built my first AI automation.

And I won’t lie —

I stared at the screen a little longer than necessary when it actually worked.

I watched a Gmail arrive, watched the AI read it, and watched it decide whether to draft a response all on its own.

My stomach did that specific lurch — the one that usually happens when I land a difficult truth in a poem, but this time, it was triggered by a moving block on a screen.

The rational voice: (It’s just a logic gate. You followed the instructions. It’s math.)

The emotional voice: (IT MOVED BY ITSELF. I AM A WIZARD.…