Moments AI Can’t Touch
I’m sitting here on my bed right now, listening to the Glenn Loury podcast and thinking about whether I want to work on my Replit project. And honestly, I do have something going on with it. I can’t believe how AI is really changing and transforming our world.
Just the other day, I used Replit to create an app. I simply told it what I wanted, the idea that had been living in my head, and it built the whole thing. It was like watching a thought turn into something real. Even when I needed more specific changes—certain pieces to connect a particular way—I explained it, and the system understood. It told me exactly what I needed to do, and then it just did it. That’s AI. That’s where we’re heading. And it’s both exciting and a little terrifying.
But today, after a long week, I had a short day. I didn’t work that hard, and I was glad for that. I was happy to have a job. I know I’m blessed and highly favored. That’s for sure.
So now I’m just relaxing. I updated my timesheet, wrapped up work, and settled in. My room’s a mess—completely torn apart because I’m getting new furniture. I’ve pulled everything out, trying to sort through things, throw stuff away. There are shirts that need folding, socks that need pairing, things everywhere. But this space is mine. And even in the chaos, it makes me feel good. I know I’ll get through it. Today, I’m choosing to ignore the mess and just be.
Then my granddaughter drops in.
They always drop in when they want something. She walks in and sits down, all her hair out—so much hair, it’s unimaginable. I look at her and think, Gosh, I can’t even remember when I was that age. But I hope to God she remembers this—walking into her grandma’s room, seeing me just like this, in my space.
Of course, the first thing she reaches for is my makeup bag. She starts rummaging through it, looking at lipsticks I’ve never worn and probably never will. They’re glossy, light-colored—just sitting there for some reason. Maybe I imagine that one day I’ll put on a full face of makeup, maybe even wear lipstick too. Probably not, but who knows?
She starts separating the lipsticks, arranging them into little piles. Then she finds one in a shiny gold case—fancy looking. I have no idea where it came from. Probably some free Sephora sample. She opens it, looks at it, looks at me, and then puts it back.
I glance at her hair—some braids in, some out. I think about helping her take one down, but they’re too small. I’m not doing all that tonight. So I let her be. She keeps sorting the makeup.
Then, she looks at me, holds up a pink gloss, and places it in the center of the bed. “Can I have this?” she asks.
I look at her. “Take it,” I say.
She grabs it and bolts out of the room like she just got away with something big. And I’m sitting there, smiling to myself, thinking: Isn’t that how they get you every time?
But you know what? That moment made me feel so good. My mother would never have done something like that with me. So to share that with my granddaughter—it brings me real joy. She doesn’t have to struggle. Right now, things are okay. They’re doing well in school, they’re growing, they care about truth and justice. So liberal I can barely stand it—but I’m proud. I know they’re going to be the ones who stand up and fight for what’s right.
And all of that—AI and lipstick and a messy room full of love—adds up to a great Friday night.
I’m not doing much. Just relaxing. Maybe I’ll keep watching the podcast, maybe I’ll work a little on my app, or try to get through my book. I’m reading Nexus right now—don’t like it, but I’m determined to finish.
Anyway, that’s it.
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© 2025 Jacqueline Session Ausby. All rights reserved. This post and all original content published under DahTruth are the intellectual property of Jacqueline Session Ausby. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
