A rollercoaster of pride, panic, and AI gasliting I code to relax. Some people do yoga, some meditate—I open VS Code at 11 PM like a gremlin-raccoon. Don’t judge. I work full-time at Microsoft, and between family time and my other hobbies, I somehow keep starting new side projects. I’ve got VocalCat, an AI interviewer for SOMOS.tech, some fediverse experiments, and a Mastodon fork where I play with identity and static blog integrations.

Processes, tools, and extensive documentation are not going to save your ass, but the Agile Manifesto may. A friend just landed a job after a long hiatus. The very next day, I asked him if he’d been fired yet. I know, I’m mean, but with my close friends, this is how we communicate. Don’t judge. He laughed (Narrator: in fact he did not) and then, for the bazillionth time, told me how nice it must be working at Microsoft.

I was 11 years old when I became an accessibility advocate in software products thanks to Bill Gates. I did not know the term at the time, and it certainly was not planned. My parents bought a second-hand (or maybe third?) computer from a relative (thank you tío Rafa!), a fragrant IBM PS1 that now included screen colors. This was my second computer; the first one had a retina-damaging green monitor (verde chinga-pupila in Mexico), hacker-style, running DOS and Pascal.

I have always found Chernobyl fascinating, it is a captivating tale of caution yes, but also a profound tale of wisdom. Chernobyl by Midjourney Chernobyl stands as a catalyst of chaos and a tragic human disaster, yet it also embodies the essence of ambition and reveals a perplexing paradox in its furnace of ambition. A few years ago, I was enthralled by the HBO miniseries that portrayed the catastrophic nuclear incident in Pripyat, Ukraine, a part of the Soviet Union at the time.