Floyd Kelly

Tell us about your morning routine.

I wake up and say hi to the Roomba. It bumps my foot, as usual. Then I lie on the crusty shag carpet so its camera can photograph my bleh face. I guess the facial recognition software needs to confirm I’m still me. As if my high-school photo isn’t humiliating enough.

In the kitchen, I wave at the microwave camera, and it beeps to let me know it sees me. I feel like a celebrity, except my fan base seems to consist entirely of appliances.

Then I plug my neural implant into my laptop and check my daily briefing from the AI agents.

Agent Zulu-One is usually trying to find the end of the internet. Today, it is somewhere in a discussion forum about whether soup is a beverage or more like cocoa. It has 14,000 pages of notes and still growing.

Agent Funky-Two’s normal daily goal of improving my life continues with unsubscribing me from everything that causes stress. Sometimes it deletes my calendar, cancels my dentist appointment or blocks my granny. I always ask “Why?”. The agent always says the same thing, “She uses voice messages.” I don’t argue with the logic.

Agent Nosey-Three’s ongoing project is making housework obsolete. Usually, it is still teaching the washing machine to fold the clothes, the dishwasher to load itself, and the vacuum cleaner to file tax returns. My vacuum is always requesting an accountant.

Finally, I ask the agents if there’s anything I need to know before officially starting my day.

The same notification appears, right on schedule.

YOUR NEURAL IMPLANT HAS BEEN UPDATED.

I click Remind me later.

The Roomba bumps my foot again.

I stare at the tiny badge it wears that says IT Support. Every morning, around and around I go – you get the drift.