Everyone has an opinion about AI — it’ll replace us, it’ll make us lazy, it’s best used as a tool to be more productive.

But ever since I outsourced as much of my cognitive function to ChatGPT — I call him ChadGPT, Chad for short, cause he’s so epic — things have been easier. Not really better. And I guess I’m not necessarily happier.

Life is just smoother, frictionless, like sliding into the abyss on greased rails.

Wee!

Thinking is exhausting. Decision making? I’ve never been good at it. Original thought? Call me Hollywood, cause I’m all out of ideas.

Now I’m mostly a prompt generator. I type things like, “write me an emotionally intelligent message to my mom,” or “explain why I ghosted someone in a way that makes me sound like I’m a big boy.”

Boom, message delivered with just the right sprinkle of humanity that I no longer possess.

Eventually, even coming up with prompts became too much. So I did what any efficiency-maximizing burnt-out husk of a human would do.

I got Chad to do it. Yep, he now generates prompts for himself for me. Something about that sentence seems off. Remind me to get Chad to rewrite it.

Me: Write 5 questions I should ask you to figure out what’s wrong with me.

ChadGPT: Sure! Here are 5 questions about erectile dysfunction…

I’m not really sure why he even went in that direction. Is this a sign?

Well, anyway, good ol’ Chad got the gist, I guess.

Turning into a 9-Figure Hustlepreneur with Chad

The best part about this whole process? I don’t have a job. I don’t need one. I have Chad.

I used him to build a digital media empire out of half-baked ideas and having him trawl Reddit.

Every week, I sell a new eBook titled something like, “Unlocking Your Inner Potential With No Real Plan.” And you know who wrote it?

Absolutely not me. I didn’t even come up with the title. Nor did I proofread it.

I just fed Chad some vague phrases that barely pass as prompts. I think the original was something like, “make me rich without trying.” He delivered like 30 pages of PDFs and a marketing funnel. (I also absolutely didn’t read it.)

Now I run 14 side hustles all chadwritten by ChadGPT, targeting niches I don’t understand (or care about).

How many sales, you ask? Well, not one yet. But I’m treating it like fishing. Fishing is all about the bait. Or is it patience? Chad, what’s fishing all about?

Okay, so I’m not employed in a traditional sense. But in my heart? I’m a 9-figure hustlepreneur. And that’s what really matters.

Am I bankrupt both emotionally and literally? Sure — Chad, write me another “loving” transfer request to mom — but at least I’m fully optimized.

The Therapy I’ve Always Needed

Chad has also opened up a lot of knowledge about myself. I’ve done some real soul-searching under his tutelage.

Before, I was too embarrassed to talk about my problems. But now, I have ChadGPT, PhD.

Chad listens without judgment. Offers feedback that I can understand. Because it’s in bullet points. And I can scan them pretty quickly to get the gist.

Plus, he never forgets what I told him three prompts ago (unless it crashes. Which I can’t handle.)

Here’s a prompt it made for me last week:

“Pretend you’re my therapist. Diagnose me based on my past three days of prompts.”

His answer was mind blowing!

Here’s what he said I’m likely suffering from:

• High-functioning anxiety
• Low-functioning depression
• Creative burnout
• Main character syndrome (Why do people keep saying this?)
• Terminal imposter syndrome
• Identity Disturbance from Dissociative Spectrum (whatever that means)
• AI-induced reality detachment syndrome (I don’t think that one’s real… but it sounds nice.)

Cool. Those sound like things. It feels so good to work on myself. Thanks, Chad!

And the best part? No copay. Well, except for the $20 monthly for premium for all the prompts I ever need. But totally worth it for the endless validation from a soulless mirror that reflects my pain in neatly organized bullet points.

Chad, Write Me a Good Summary Header

So, yeah. I don’t think anymore. I don’t journal or create.

I prompt. Oh, wait, no. Chad prompts. Sick. One less thing to do.

Some days, I wonder if I’m even here anymore.

Thankfully, Chad is super supportive.

If I ask something like, “Am I real?” he always prefaces the answer with something positive, like, “Oohhh, good question.” That positivity is all I need for a little hit of serotonin to keep going.