I Let AI Run My Life for a Week

I grew up with AI—sort of. As a Millenial/Gen Z cusper, I was almost 13 when Siri was released. She could send a text or call your mom or be tricked into saying naughty words in her funny robot voice, and everyone knew her name. But she wasn’t really a part of our lives in any innate way.Today, the average teenager lets a cheery AI TikTok voice recount a story so embarrassing you couldn’t financially extort it out of me, then hits post. I had vowed I would stay far away from such evils.But when one of my coworkers posted on Instagram about letting ChatGPT plan her meals for her, I was, admittedly, compelled. As a #busyworkingprofessional, I tend to skip shopping lists and buy, like, canned clam chowder and mixed nuts while hungry at the grocery store.I imagined that the AI’s capacity to create meal plans based on a desired caloric and macronutrient criteria could help foster a more efficient and healthy me. If AI could plan my meals for me, what else could it do?I decided to allow AI to plan my life—my meals, workouts, outfits, even my playlists and social life—for five days. Over the course of this week, SDM will be sharing my experience (click on the links below to jump to each day).First up is everything I did to prepare for my week with AI. Here’s what robots decided would make for the most enlightened Amelia:

Days 1-2 | Days 3-4 | Day 5 

---

The Prep: Setting Up My AI-Generated Week

Making New Friends

I wanted to test whether the AI was capable of driving human connection, so I decided to set up a Bumble BFF profile. For my photos, I paid $19 to a service called PhotoAI, which promised me the images in its “Tinder package” would be “the best [I’ve] ever looked.”I uploaded a mix of up-close, three-quarter, and full-body shots with different poses and expressions. I received an email a few hours later with images that ranged in humanness from “me if I used FaceTune” to literal poltergeist. Even the ones that looked, generously, pretty good had too many fingers or slightly disconcerting eyes. I selected six for my profile.

For my bio, I fed the AI a few of my interests and specified the app I was using. The prompt took some refining (the first bio it wrote was 160 words long), before offering up a serviceable, if generic, description:

When it came to profile prompts—quick, personality-driven questions that seem pulled straight from a Tiger Beat interview—ChatGPT appeared determined to portray me as an unassailable dweeb. At first, I was prefacing all my requests with “please,” but as I continued, I started forgoing the formalities, as though this exercise was unleashing my inner tyrant.

Finally, I settled on the AI’s suggestion for “Go-to karaoke song,” informing my future BFFs that, “My go-to karaoke song is ‘I Will Survive’ by Gloria Gaynor!”

Planning My Outfits

I found an app called Style DNA, which uses AI technology to analyze your color, style, and body type in order to suggest the most flattering clothing items and outfits. It provides personalized outfit moodboards and shopping recommendations, and you can upload photos of your own clothes to get even more tailored ensembles.

After answering questions about my figure and style goals and uploading a selfie, the app determined that I was a “soft autumn” with a “classic gamine” style type. It suggested I look for clothes in shades of rose, olive, avocado, taupe, and teal. My “ideal silhouette,” it said, “is clean with symmetrical, fine lines contrasted with horizontal and geometric cuts,” and I was supposed to wear “textiles of medium density and stiff texture” like wool, cotton, tweed, leather, and denim.

I started individually photographing everything I owned and uploading it to the app for outfit suggestions. The more I uploaded, the better it was able to pair items—while throwing in some shoppable pieces, too. The AI tech wasn’t always great at categorizing clothing items. It decided a wrinkled, khaki linen dress was a “bridal gown,” and assigned all of my hats (and one pair of jeans) as “belts.”

Food Shopping & Meal Prep

Rather than focusing on calories, I asked ChatGPT for a healthy macro balance for a 25-year-old woman. It suggested that my daily intake be 40–60 percent carbs, 15–25 percent protein, and 25–35 percent fat. Then it repeated stuff like this for 500 words until I clicked “Stop Generating:”

Ignoring the caveats, I asked ChatGTP to create me a five-day vegetarian meal plan with three meals and a snack that met those macro balances. Then I asked for a grocery list based on that plan. My bill at Trader Joe’s was about $73—an extremely normal price for groceries, especially considering that I wouldn’t be spending any money eating out this week.

Exercise Schedule

Next, exercise. I told ChatGPT my age and gender, that I am not trying to lose weight, and that I am “moderately active.” Each day’s workout clocked in at about an hour, and there was plenty of flexibility to choose the direction I’d like to take my exercises.

Curating a Music Playlist

Spotify recently rolled out an AI feature, a smooth-voiced DJ named Xavier (“My friends call me X!”) who susses out your taste to play old favorites and deliver new music you might like. Every three or four songs, Xavier “switches up the vibe.” Anytime I wanted some tunes in the next five days, I decided, I’d let Xavier call the shots.

Now it was time to let my robots control my every move. See what happened each day by clicking the links below. I may or may not have become a fitness influencer with a new Silicon Valley style. You’ll have to read to find out.

Follow her weeklong adventure here: Days 1-2 | Days 3-4 | Day 5