“I wish I were twenty years older and all too happy to retire early. I wish I were twenty years younger and starting out in an AI-native world.”

I was laid off last year, right before the AI discourse hit full swing and adoption became de rigueur. I study and play around at home, but you can’t replicate the skill growth and real world impact only found in a working corporate environment.

Recruiters seem to agree.

I remain conflicted about staying in design. Twenty years is at once a huge investment, worthy of commitment, and also a solid number to end an era, worthy of goodbye.

You keep looking for signs, but always reach the same conclusion: Nobody really cares what you do with your life. Nobody’s watching. My situation is forcing me to confront the concept of agency, perhaps earnestly, for the first time in my life.

I wish I were twenty years older and all too happy to retire early. I wish I were twenty years younger and starting out in an AI-native world.

Instead, I’m in the middle. Even available paths before me carry their own particular consequences. Continually, I have to shake off the paralysis and maintain action.

A good day can mean speaking with a potential lead, or it can simply mean completing a workout and washing a load of laundry.

“Jus’ live the day,” said Ma Joad in The Grapes of Wrath.

None of this feels real.