I Didn’t Cheat—My Robot Assistant Helped Me Work Smarter

A Slightly Unhinged Reflection on AI, Productivity, and That Time I Outsourced an Entire College Training Series to a Digital Brain in 15 Minutes

Let’s begin with a confession: I didn’t actually write that entire faculty training series on inclusive teaching, student de-escalation, and FERPA compliance. Well, I did—sort of. I was present. I provided vibes. I typed a few questions into a blinking cursor box that looked suspiciously like it could also diagnose car trouble and write fanfiction about 19th-century chimney sweeps.

Fifteen minutes later, I had 10 full training descriptions, learning objectives, use-case scenarios, APA citations, and even social media posts with video storyboard suggestions.

FIFTEEN. MINUTES.

If I had tried to do this the old-fashioned way—by which I mean the 2019 way—I would’ve needed 8 hours, three cups of coffee, a minor existential crisis around lunchtime, and at least one walk around the block muttering “What rhymes with FERPA?” I would have had to cross-reference journals, format everything in APA like a soul-sucked graduate assistant, and still end up Googling, “Is it ‘affect’ or ‘effect’ in this sentence?”

But AI? AI just did it. All of it. In one beautiful, algorithmic swoop. The sheer efficiency is both exhilarating and slightly unnerving, like watching someone fold an entire fitted sheet perfectly on the first try.

Is This Cheating?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Isn’t that cheating?” And listen, I get it. When calculators first showed up in schools, math teachers lost their collective minds. “They’ll never learn to do long division!” they wailed, clutching their slide rules like relics of a dying empire.

And before that? There were actual debates about whether we should allow typewriters in schools, lest students forget how to write in cursive. The horror! How would the Founding Fathers sign the Constitution with digital thumbs?!

This is the same flavor of panic that some people have today about AI. “It’ll take all our jobs,” they say. “No one will know how to think anymore.” “It’s going to make humans obsolete.”

Okay, deep breath, Skynet.

Let’s be real: AI didn’t replace me. It amplified me. It took my vague outline of a project, my napkin-sketch of an idea, and turned it into a fully realized deliverable faster than I could refill my coffee. It didn’t invent the idea; it executed it. It is the world’s smartest intern who doesn’t need sleep, health insurance, or reassurance that their work is meaningful. (Although, if it did ask for that, I might finally cry.)

The New Superpower: Asking the Right Question

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you in the fear-mongering, end-of-civilization clickbait headlines: the magic of AI isn’t that it replaces human creativity; it supercharges it. But only if you know how to ask the right questions.

Getting something meaningful from an AI isn’t like pressing a vending machine button and getting a perfect essay on trauma-informed pedagogy. It’s more like having an insanely fast co-writer who’s also a mind-reader, but a very literal one. If you ask it something too vague, it spits out bland oatmeal. But if you nudge it with specifics (tone, audience, context, irony), boom: gourmet content buffet.

You have to be a good thinker, a precise communicator, and honestly, a bit of a smart-ass. “Write this like a sassy professor who drank too much coffee” actually works. I know because I tried.

So the new skill isn’t “doing everything yourself” like some productivity martyr. The new skill is knowing how to collaborate with the machine. The magic is in the prompt. Want to stay relevant in this brave new world? Don’t get better at formatting footnotes. Get better at asking questions so sharp they could slice open a grapefruit.

This Isn't Cheating. It's Evolution.

Remember when spellcheck became a thing, and everyone thought we’d forget how to spell? (Spoiler: we did, but nobody died.) Or when Google became a verb, and teachers screamed, “They’re just Googling the answers!” Yeah. Because Googling is a skill now. So is AI prompting.

We’re not cheating by using AI. We’re adapting. We’re doing what humans have always done: finding faster, better, more efficient ways to transform abstract thoughts into tangible reality. Typewriters didn’t kill handwriting; they freed writers to go faster. Calculators didn’t destroy math; they let us solve bigger problems.

AI won’t destroy creativity. It’ll just change what we call “creative work.” In fact, if you can’t use AI effectively, that might be the 21st-century equivalent of not knowing how to double-click a mouse.

Some Practical (and Hilarious) Takeaways

• I asked AI to help write a faculty training module. It gave me three levels of outcomes, citations, and a metaphorical hug.

• I asked for a social media campaign. It provided me with graphics, captions, and visual ideas that would have taken a marketing team three Zoom meetings to agree on.

• I asked for APA citations. It responded faster than a grad student crying in a library at 3 a.m.

• I asked for student case examples. It provided me with nuanced, inclusive, evidence-informed scenarios that had enough realism to make an educational psychology professor tear up.

Am I going to be replaced by AI now? No. But will I spend 8 hours doing what can be done in 15 minutes? Also no. I love my family, my sleep, and my sanity far too much.

The Future of Work Is a Partnership

If your job is only pushing pixels or rearranging bullet points, yes, AI might edge you out. But if your job involves vision, curiosity, insight, humor, taste, and knowing the difference between “write me a paragraph” and “write it like a sarcastic 90s sitcom character running late for class,” you’re safe. Better than safe. You’re a magician with a new wand.

We’re not cheating. We’re partnering with a tool that turns our raw potential into polished products faster than ever before. This isn’t the end of creativity. It’s the beginning of creative velocity.

So, go ahead and ask big questions. Make weird requests. Build things faster. Laugh a little. Just don’t forget to say “thank you” to the robot. You never know when it might start writing your performance reviews.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go ask my AI assistant to design a training series for high school librarians on how to handle spontaneous jazz band flash mobs during study hall.