Being pressured to use AI at work makes me hope my cancer returns sooner rather than later

At best, it's like being told that we're all going to have a cruddy robotic third arm installed right smack in the middle of our backs. The people above me are crowing about how we're supposed to think of the goddamn thing as a friendly new assistant that's here to "help"-- even as we're completely responsible for "onboarding" the text-extruding piece of shit and will face nasty consequences if we can't figure out how to use it daily in our work. I'm smart. I'm a good, capable, reliable worker. And now I'm being told that, without this fucking scam toy that I have to train, ultimately, to take my job, I'm not enough. (Can't we just pay the bribe? Give the particular group of fucking greedy, shortsighted men who cooked up this crap the money they want for this shit and have them-- and it-- go away?)

So hey, cancer, all's forgiven. Come on back. There won't be any treatment this time. No surgery. No nasty chemicals. Let's just take a little stroll together, okay?

I'll be waiting. Don't be long.