The Pain of Passwords

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Are you like me and have just had it up to there with passwords?  I tried to access a site earlier and couldn’t remember my password.  Thirty minutes later, numerous screens, error messages, and two emails, I still don’t know the password.  That’s 30 minutes of my life I could have spent doing my cardio work-out.  (insert hysterical laughter here)

When I worked in a cubicle farm, a majority of us would stash our computer passwords under our keyboards.  We all knew each other did this, but nobody said anything because, of course, it was not an allowed practice.  But it was easy to remember.  And, that’s the problem with passwords — only a 12-yr old can remember any of them.

I tried using the same password for everything.  That fell apart when some jerk hacked an email account.  I got the notification, panicked, and realized I had 70 hundred thousand million passwords to generate.  And they all had to be different.  And I had to have them in my head and be able to retrieve them.  Oh my.  This would never work.

I got the bright idea of jotting down passwords in a small notebook.  That failed when the notebook fell on the family room floor somehow and EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, had a midnight snack.  Ack.

Next, I decided to embed passwords into phone numbers.  Disaster!  I couldn’t remember which part of the phone number was the password, or if the phone number was a real one, and ended up phoning some rather angry people.

I had heard about smart phone aps that took care of passwords.  I quickly downloaded the latest ap.  I loaded all my passwords into it, then gave it a password.  Guess what I forgot?  The password to access my passwords.

I created an Excel spreadsheet and put all my passwords there.  Then I thought it would be a good idea to print it out, so if I died unexpectedly (like from a password event-generated stroke), Devoted Spouse would be able to get into all my records online.  But the spreadsheet was too big for my printer paper.  I had to scotch-tape the printed pages together.  It turned into such a mess, I shredded everything and opened a bottle of wine.

There seems to be no easy solution to this.  I have a copy of the spreadsheet that wasn’t taped together. I threw it in a file folder to deal with later.  I just don’t remember what I did with that folder…sigh…

Stop the Year and Let Me Catch Up

Welcome to the New Year.  I  am a few weeks into the old year still.  My short term memory hasn’t caught up to my long term memory and my short term memory, frankly, is falling down on the job.

EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, gets a monthly pill for heartworm and flea control.  She should have taken them the first of January; I remembered them this morning, the 5th, 6th of January.  Wait…what day is this again?  Ack.

I’m working on a project that should have been finished at least one to two weeks ago to give me adequate time to prepare for the next phase.  Oh yeah, I haven’t started it yet.  I have a new solitaire game on my computer and it keeps calling my name.

Never did get those awful dents on my relatively new car pounded out…you know, the ones caused by that freak hail storm, oh, I dunno, how many months ago (?) There’s  a voicemail on my phone from the lady at the auto body shop.  I should probably do something about that.   Need to get rid of that phone…

Lest you think it’s just me, allow me to relay what happened to Devoted Spouse the other day…  We have been attending the same church for almost  7 years now.  We go to the same service regularly, always arriving a few minutes early to grab some coffee and chat w/friends.  Devoted Spouse is going to be volunteering his time at the computer check-in station for a specific upcoming event and needs to be trained.  In emails with one of our pastors, he agreed to arrive at church a little earlier and get some valuable OJT.  He told the pastor he would be there at 9:30 prior to the 10:00 service.  The problem is this church HAS no 10:00 service at our location.  He knew this and yet that’s what he emailed.  Now our pastor thinks Devoted Spouse is certifiable.  I felt better, though.  It’s not just me.

I want to speak with whoever is in charge of time and ask them kindly to hold things for a few weeks until I can catch up.  Then there’s that issue of starting fresh I need to contend with.  Maybe after the New Year…sigh…

Time for a Pet Peeve Rant

EmmaLou could technically be a "pet" peeve

I’m in the mood to discuss pet peeves.  Why are they called “pet” anyway?  Animals have nothing to do with complaining about something that irks you.  Unless that animal is EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer and she’s chewed something again.  That could actually qualify as a pet peeve.

I’ve been thinking about things that irk me.  Most of these could so easily be fixed if people would just stop and think about what they’re doing once in awhile.  Here’s my latest list.

Top Ten Pet Peeves  (in no particular order)

1. House repairs that start small and end up costing you an arm and a leg.  See below for my latest home catastrophe.  And, no, that’s not Devoted Spouse, that’s Construction Repair Dude.  I only wish Devoted Spouse could repair this.

The Money Pit

2.  Drivers who simply refuse to use their turn signals.  Worse yet are those who use them but turn the other direction.  Yikes!  I think there auto (sorry)  be a way that car manufacturers can program into the vehicle a special kill switch. I’ll call it the Boppo switch.  Here’s how it works:  You make a right or left turn without using a turn signal and a gloved hand comes out of the dashboard and smacks the crap outta you.  No, wait, that could cause an accident.  I’ll work on this one later.  Just please start using your turn signals.

3.  People who yell at or make rude gestures toward road construction crews.  Am I the only person in the world who actually waves and says thank you to these guys?  The other day I was on an outreach with church and we gave away dozens and dozens of Krispy Kreme donuts to construction guys.  These guys were simply flabbergasted that we would do that for them.  One looked at me and said, “Nobody likes us.”  I think that’s sad.  I challenge each and every one of you to be kinder to road construction crews.  I know, I know, it often seems as if they are standing around doing nothing.  But there is a great amount of the time they are working very hard for us – so go do something nice for them.  Or, at least stop with the rude gestures.

4.  Sweaty gym equipment.  ‘Nuff said.

5.  Older men who wear baggy shorts, then sit in front of you and their shorts are gaping at the leg  — ick  —   Stop.It.Now.

6.  Salesmen who sell you something you truly don’t need and definitely can’t afford and they take such great pleasure in it.  I’m not even going into detail here coz I got sweet-talked recently.  (hangs head) (This is where Sheldon would say, “Bazinga!”)

7.  Drivers who consistently drive 5 miles below the speed limit.  They are always in front of me.  I think this is a special delivery from God straight to me as a test of my vocabulary.

8.  People who leave their dogs in a car/truck/SUV on a summer day when it’s 85 degrees outside and the sun is shining.  Oh, they crack the window, but the poor animal suffers in well over 100 degree heat inside that vehicle!  I’ve seen this happen at church and out at shopping centers or grocery stores.  Why, I ask you, must a pet accompany you to church??!!  I’m assuming you have a temperature controlled environment where you live.  LEAVE YOUR DOG AT HOME!  That’s why God made large crates and kennels.  You can find them at any pet store.  They’re not that expensive — we have one for EmmaLou.  I have been known to be quite insane over this issue, going so far as to call police.

9.  Nail polish that chips the third day of your vacation.

10.  Discovering mold way deep inside the box of blueberries after you’ve already brought them all the way home from the grocery.  Grrrr.

Okay, that’s enough pet peeves for one posting.  I need to go to the store to return blueberries and pick up a lottery ticket which hopefully will win and I can pay for the house re-construction…sigh…

Need Another Day in the Week Please

pic courtesy of

So why is it we can never manage time the way we would like?  My days are never orderly; they’re helter-skelter filled with too many things to do all at the same time.  I’ve been known to double-book myself for some stupid reason (it’s known as not looking at your calendar and telling someone, “Oh yeah, 1:00 will be fine.”)  Dumb-squared.  I’m calendar-challenged.

So now we’re getting ready to run away for a few days.  The housesitter is in place and EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer is ecstatic that her buddy is here playing with her all the time (shhhhh…she hasn’t seen the suitcases yet).  It’s so nice to know someone is at your house and you don’t have to rely on neighbors or your kids to keep an eye on things.  Nor do you have to ask the Post Office to hold your mail (mine just loses half of it anyway.)

The problem with this picture is I’m STILL waiting on construction dude to arrive to patch up outside so no more water gets in (a temporary fix until we return).  We’re running out of time and I don’t want my housesitter saddled with this nonsense.  It’s making me crazy.  This was supposed to have been done 3 days ago.

So I run around in circles trying to get last minute things done in time for us to skedaddle.  Ack.  I need at least another day to pull this off.  And they tell me vacations are relaxing.  Preparing for the vacation is so stressful, I’ll need another vacation from my vacation…sigh…

Insomnia…Hello Old Pal

pic courtesy of

Again I find I lay (lie?) in bed and watch the numbers move on the digital clock.  If they just weren’t such a bright shade of red, maybe I wouldn’t get so annoyed.  There it goes again.  Another minute I’ll never get back.

Insomnia.  Really not a funny subject.  So I’m going to have to work very hard to make this humorous in any way.

Unfortunately, I know I’m not alone in this — many people suffer right along with me.  Perhaps they should start reading this blog….zzzzzzz.

I once was staying at the home of a lovely lady who suffered from insomnia.  At that time in my life I slept quite well, until one night when I heard the strangest noises coming from her kitchen.  I got out of bed and quietly crept into the dining room and peeked into her kitchen.  It was about 2 a.m.  I saw her sitting on the floor of her kitchen cleaning it one square at a time with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Windex.  This is what I heard…. Spritz…riiiiiippppp.   Spritz…riiiippppp.  It went on and on and on.  I didn’t know what to do because I was a house guest but she was driving me crazy with the ripping of the paper towels one at a time.  I wanted to dash in, grab several handfulls of paper towels and help her get the job done but realized that would make me just as odd as she.

Then again…I’ve done some odd things at 2 a.m. myself when I couldn’t sleep.  I’ve cleaned out cupboards, rearranged furniture, moussed and gelled EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer’s hair on her head into a Mohawk (she loved it), read the worst literature (for want of a better word) in the world in a desperate attempt at sleep.  Ever hear of someone named Sun Tzu?  Trust me….terrible writer.  What a wiener.  Amazing war strategist, however.  Even his writing failed to make me fall asleep.

I’ve hit the pharmaceuticals and tried everything out there over the counter (under the counter) whatever.  Nothing works and the drugs that do work have those crazy side effects like shopping online in the middle of the night and not realizing the next morning you ordered Ginzu knives.  Ack.  Truly, while I was on Ambien, my UPS guy and I became the very best of friends and I’m convinced their stock went up because of my midnight forays online at QVC.

I’ve spoken of this before I’m sure — I’ve been blogging since about the time of Christopher Columbus and I’m bound to repeat once in awhile.  So just put up with me please.  Or send me solutions to this sleep thing – the bags under my eyes are being noticed by purse designers lately, since large bags are in vogue.  Maybe I could make some money off them.  Nah.  Nevermind.

I’m going to toddle off to bed again and see how many more times I can toss and turn in one night…there may be a Guinness Book of World Records for that…sigh..