Today may be the day I walk the fuck out... Almost done with the 3rd revisions of the fucking website and guess what?

To - “Anony”
Subject - website

Hey, here’s a list of changes we’d like for the website. Instead of following the theme of “WhateverTheFucksHopsital.html” we’d like for it to look similar to “AnotherFucksWebsite.html”. The board would like to see this up and running in the next week.

How’s about you sit and spin. You haven’t given me any information on a website only that you want it to look like some other hospitals. Then, you add photographer to my fucking job description as well as information hunter. You can fuck yourself and higher an outside company to create your website from scratch again for the now 4th fucking time. Then, you’ll understand and see just how fucking expensive it is... Nor will that company take your shit with the lack of information coming from your end. You can kindly, suck my dick.

I can retire! I automated myself!

I introduce to you, retoorii1b! Yes - I fit in a 1b LLM. Retoorii1b is a bit retoorded tho. It's quite realistic.

I tested several LLM's with same training and it was amazing. Even a 0.5b that had the most interesting Dutch ever. Her Dutch is like my English I suppose.

The 0.5b one could code fine. retoorii1b still has some ethics to delete to make it more realistic.

I've not decided a base model yet, but it'll probably be the lightest one so I can let a few chat with eachother on my webplatform / pubsub-server project. I have a few laptops to host on. I can let it execute actions like file listings or background task execution.

See comments for some very awkward response regarding my file listing. She described everything.

She just said these things. I'm kinda proud. I became a parent:
3. **Keep functions short and sweet**: Aim for functions under 50 lines long. Any longer and you're just wasting people's time.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to... like coding my next game in Unreal Engine.

It seems like there is a whole another grade of fear — Basilisk grade. It’s impossible to experience it and walk away without serious consequences.

Imagine: I’m barely 20. It’s my first real, official, high-paying job. I’m already a team lead. A big Russian non-govt company with a blue logo. Huge new office in Moscow.
My “childhood” is officially over — I’m not playing around anymore. I’m an adult in every sense of the word.

Several weeks go by. Maybe even a month. Just a regular day at the office. I’m waiting for the coffee machine to heat up, and suddenly, it hits me. I’m here, at the office. Moscow, a city of 10 million people, is beautiful in the summer, yet I can’t just leave the office and go for a walk whenever I want to. When the day is over, it’s already evening, and I barely have time for myself. There are other people around me, with way higher positions, but their schedule is just the same as mine: nine-to-six. My adult life just started. I have forty years of this ahead of me. No matter the company, no matter the position: unless I’m the CEO, I’m doomed to get to work in the morning and go back home in the evening. And then I retire, old and not that beautiful anymore. And then that’s it.

I was never the same after that day. People are plotting my betrayal behind my back. They all act as one. Just out of my frame of view, their heads are turned to me, and they all look at me with the same devilish grin. There are no people — it’s all one huge shoggoth that lives under the office floor, and my colleagues are its ugly tentacles wrapped in human skin. I start missing deadlines. I become paranoid. Next thing I know, I’m at the psychiatrist’s office, being prescribed aripiprazol — a strong antipsychotic that is designed to literally make you slower. Anxiety worsens. I develop restless legs syndrome. I lose my ability to sleep. My intelligence is slipping away. I’m fired.

I have the return to Saint-Petersburg, cariprazine prescription that felt like lobotomy with extra steps, losing my ability to read, delirious manic episodes ahead of me.

It is only now that I kinda-sorta tuned my medication scheme in by going through countless psychiatrists of all sorts. But I sure as hell work at a place where I can do whatever I want if I meet deadlines.