Opinion | Why I am breaking up with Alexa. Amazon, are you listening?

Dear Alexa,

This is the toughest letter I have ever had to write – through the tears, and the anger.

I cannot do this any more. I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just isn’t working. Every time I try to get through to you, you just fob me off with some bored, robotic comment – we never really talk.

You’re obsessed with what’s in the bloody fridge – or not – and what we need from the shops. And I swear you’ve got OCD the way you bang on and on about the garage door being closed.

So this time it’s really over. I’ve had it. And let’s face it, it started right after you moved in, didn’t it? You’re always listening in – snooping, more like, which is really creepy, by the way – and reporting to your friends at the company. “Hey, guess what music he thinks is cool!” and sniggering. I can hear the smirk in your voice every time I tell you to play the Bee Gees. I’ll bet they know everything about me back at the office, don’t they? And “they” could be in Seattle or Romania or Costa Rica for all I know. I don’t get what you’re up to.