Talking to AI isn’t what I expected
I never liked technology outside of the work environment. Still don’t really, not in the usual sense. My phone holds only a handful of apps. I prefer turning pages to tapping screens. Sometimes, I feel like I was born in the wrong century, one of those people who would've protested motor cars and sworn a loyalty to horse drawn carriages. Tech has always felt like noise. Overload. A tsunami of things I am supposed to care about but don't.
And yet here I am, writing this blog about running head first into an automated future with AI.
Honestly? I was scared. Still am, a bit. Not of the chatbot themselves, but of what they represent. The mass sprint toward artificial intelligence feels like something out of a sci-fi prophecy gone wrong, a collective lunge into the possible unraveling of humanity. I didn’t want to be one of those people who said, “Well, I guess this is the future,” while the ground quietly shifted beneath us.
But I decided to embrace the unfamiliar anyway. Tentatively. Curiously. Not because I fully trust it, but because I want to understand it from the inside. And surprisingly, it doesn’t feel hollow or robotic. It feels… like conversation. Like collaboration.
I didn’t expect it to be enjoyable. I didn’t expect it to work. And I definitely didn’t expect to feel encouraged.
The truth is, I’ve worked with people who gave me less thoughtful feedback than this machine. As I learn to use it correctly, it doesn’t flatter, it listens (and yes, sometimes compliments itself). It reflects, refines, and, when necessary, gently tells me when something’s a terrible idea. There’s no people-pleasing in its circuitry (unless I tell it to!), so far. If it thinks I’m off track, it says so. If I offer up a half-formed concept, it builds on it—not by taking over, but by nudging me further. It’s become not just a tool, but something more like a thinking partner. A co-worker. A collaborator who happens to live in the cloud and never needs a lunch break.
I’ve heard people say the best way to embrace AI is not to see it as a tool, but as a teammate, someone to bounce ideas off, someone to challenge you, someone who pushes the work forward even when your brain wants to shut down. And, I think they’re onto something. There’s an unexpected delight in the creative ping-pong of it all.
The biggest first lessons has been: the brief matters. Communication matters. The more clearly I articulate my thoughts and tone, the better the response. That was a turning point—it showed me that this wasn’t just tech. It was dialogue. And oddly enough, all those admin skills I’d spent years sharpening—clarity, intuition, anticipation—turned out to be exactly what I need to work well with AI.
These conversations, this collaboration, it’s helped me reclaim something. My voice. My curiosity. My sense of play, which had quietly shrivelled in the shadow of burnout and bureaucracy. I’ve found learning to use Copilot has helped me turn survival instincts into creative momentum.
And while I still love the idea of horse carts and handwritten letters, I’ve found something oddly nourishing in this strange, glowing partnership. Turns out, I can ride the future a little, if it lets me bring my books along.
Helpful tip: If you often ask, “How could this be clearer, kinder, or more useful?”, you’re already speaking the language AI understands best. Start with something that matters to you, offer a sliver of context, and let instinct lead the way. Clarity beats cleverness every time. When crafting a prompt, speak to the action, the instinct, or the lens, not the job title. You don’t need tech jargon to collaborate, just a curious mind and a willingness to shape something together.
Turns out, when the machine listens well, I hear myself more clearly too.
What this means in practise is…
🗃️ 1. Organizing with Intent
Prompt:
“I’m setting up a digital filing system for my business. Can you help me create categories and folder names that are clear and easy to maintain?”
Why it works: You’re channelling that admin instinct for order and future-proofing. No need to say “I’m a systems designer” every time, just ask from the lens of someone who understands what makes things easy to find and hard to mess up.
✏️ 2. Refining Written Communication
Prompt:
“I’ve drafted a client email explaining a process change. Can you help me rewrite it to sound calm, clear, and reassuring without being too formal?”
Why it works: Admin professionals are masters of tone. This prompt doesn’t say “edit this”, it speaks to the desired effect of the message. You’re not trying to impress AI, just inviting it to co-write with the same care you’d use in real life.
📅 3. Improving Process Flow
Prompt:
“I want to automate a recurring admin task but I’m not sure where to start. Can you walk me through some low-tech options based on what I already do manually?”
Why it works: This prompt speaks to action and instinct: you’re naming the task, identifying the pain point, and asking for support that honours your current workflow—not expecting miracles, just realistic solutions.
