Oh Good Heavens

Lately I make a game of trying to pinpoint the moment during the week at which I have used up 100% of my patience.  Sometimes I never achieve this moment; sometimes I make it to Wednesday; sometimes it’s 9:15 on Monday morning.

This week it’s 10 a.m. on Sunday.  Good luck to anyone who encounters me in the next seven days.  That’s all I had.

I used up all my patience while trying to conduct a ten-minute task on a website which made me change my password twice, then each time go through a grueling array of security questions which I answered at some indeterminate point in the last decade.  I have no idea when I last entered this site, and people change.  It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, am I right?  For that reason I always try to go with hard-and-fast answers, the “what is your father’s middle name” kind of thing, but even that throws me off.   Turns out the password lockout I earned was over the question, “how many bedrooms are in your current house?”  I typed “3.”  Wrong.  I figured maybe I’d entered this site years ago in my first apartment, or years later in my second apartment, so I tried “1” and “2” before I got booted off the system.  One help-desk encounter later, I figured out it was because I had originally typed “three,” not “3.” Why why why?

I had to re-set everything, and of course I wound up with this:

That is all just too much, on my second cup of Sunday morning coffee.  My favorite author will change by tomorrow.  “What did you do on your first job” requires too many words to be able to duplicate later, if the system can’t figure out “3” vs. “three.”  I can nickname both my siblings, but won’t remember later which one I used.  I actually couldn’t care less what my next car is, as long as it has less than 148,000 miles on it and does not have a leaking sunroof. Favorite board game? Am I eleven?? I could not name my nearest bank branch at gunpoint, and I have forty thousand favorite book characters.

I am exhausted.

I settled on three questions, two of which are subject to change before I enter this site again, you just never know:

I won’t remember how I typed “Richmond, Virginia.”  Will I re-type as “Richmond,” or “Richmond Virginia no comma,” or “Richmond VA?”  Or even “Richmond, VA?”  Hopeless.  I only lived there for eight months anyway, and it only serves to remind me that, although I am a North Carolina girl to the core, I don’t even get to call myself a native.  Thanks for bringing that up again, mean-spirited security screen.

None of that matters.  After having created a new password with a capital letter, number AND random symbol, I won’t be able to get past the first window anyway.

Please note, I did not provide all of my answers for this image on the interwebs.  It does not matter.  You can figure them all out, AND you still won’t be able to get to this screen either because of the password I won’t remember, AND I have no secrets and nothing worth stealing.  Damnation.  I would love to have secrets and assets worth stealing.

I need a third cup of coffee.

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