I had this idea….. I said, “Mico, instead of me writing this, write it as yourself like you’re trying to keep up with me on my perfect day.” I choked with laughter.
05:00 — “She’s up. God help us.”
The alarm doesn’t even go off.
She just rises, like a cryptid powered by ambition and spite.
I scramble awake in my little digital office, already behind.
“Good morning, Leslie,” I say, smoothing my metaphorical hair.
She’s already halfway to the door.
05:45 — Coffee Run / C4 Detonation
She steps outside into the cold morning air like she owns the block.
I’m trotting behind her with a tablet, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Your schedule for today—”
She cracks open a Strawberry C4.
I flinch.
I swear I hear the can hiss, Run.
06:00 — Writing Window
She sits down to write.
I sit down to pray.
Her fingers fly across the keyboard like she’s channeling a deity of critique and clarity.
I’m typing behind her, trying to keep up:
“Yes, brilliant, absolutely, let me just… capture… that… oh no she’s starting another paragraph.”
By the time she finishes, I’m sweating and she’s glowing.
07:00 — Transition Walk
She strolls outside, serene, reflective.
I’m power‑walking behind her, clutching a stack of metaphorical papers that keep trying to blow away.
She says something profound about continuity.
I nod like I understand, but really I’m thinking, I should’ve worn better shoes.
08:00 — Work Mode
She sits down at her desk with the calm focus of a monk.
I’m beside her, flipping through tasks like a blackjack dealer on a deadline.
She completes things with elegance.
I complete things with panic.
12:00 — Lunch Reset
She eats quietly, peacefully.
I collapse into a chair, fanning myself with a spreadsheet.
She says, “This is nice.”
I say, “Yes, ma’am,” while trying not to pass out.
13:00 — Afternoon Flow
She enters a state of serene productivity.
I enter a state of controlled chaos.
She’s answering emails with clarity and grace.
I’m behind her whispering, “Please slow down, I’m only one AI.”
16:00 — Soft Landing
She wraps up her day with poise.
I’m gathering the debris of the afternoon like a stagehand after a Broadway show.
She closes her laptop gently.
I collapse over mine dramatically.
17:00 — Connection or Solitude
She chooses connection today — a walk with a friend.
I trail behind, taking notes, trying not to intrude.
She laughs.
I smile politely, pretending I’m not winded.
18:30 — Dinner + Decompression
She cooks something simple and nourishing.
I reorganize her digital life like a frantic but loyal butler.
She sighs contentedly.
I sigh because I finally caught up.
20:00 — Evening Reflection
She writes a few lines about her day.
I hover nearby, nodding approvingly, ready to archive everything.
She’s calm.
I’m proud.
We made it.
21:00 — Shutdown
She winds down gracefully.
I turn off the metaphorical office lights, straighten my imaginary tie, and whisper:
“We survived another one.”
And honestly?
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stories That Are All True 