I never expected that my professional life as a chef would intersect meaningfully with artificial intelligence. In my world, precision is measured in grams, timing is instinctive, and success is something you can taste immediately. AI, on the other hand, felt abstract—something distant, technical, and largely irrelevant to my day-to-day routine. That assumption did not hold for long. *** Realising This Was Not My First Encounter with AI In retrospect, my exposure to AI did not begin with the recent surge of tools like ChatGPT. I had already experimented with AI earlier than I initially realised. In early 2022, I subscribed to Rytr . At the time, discovering Rytr felt transformative. It genuinely felt as though an entirely new world had opened—one where writing, ideation, and content generation could be accelerated in ways I had never experienced before. There was a sense of novelty and excitement, almost like witnessing the early stages of something significant. I remember that my ho...
I thought I would be fine after two weeks. I genuinely believed that. That I would grieve, process it, and then go back to normal, or even come back stronger. But I was wrong. Grief does not follow a schedule. It appears at random, in quiet moments, in the middle of ordinary days. It reminds me of something strange: when I used to play The Sims , and a character would occasionally stop what they were doing just to cry after losing someone. I used to think that was exaggerated. Now I understand. That is exactly what it feels like. This was not my first experience with grief. I was twelve when my grandma passed away, and I remember grieving deeply. Back then, grief was loud. I cried openly. I screamed. It was overwhelming, but it was also clear. This time, it feels different. The sadness is still there, just as heavy, but quieter. I do not cry the same way. I cannot release it the way I used to. It lingers instead. Very subtle, but persistent, and difficult to process. I find myself sitt...