Ah, remember the good old days of, say, ten years ago? Back when passwords were like five letters and you could get away with something as simple as "genius"? And you could use the same one for everything and never have to change it? Gone the way of the five cent cup of coffee and actually talking to a live person on the telephone. Now you practically have to write an original algebraic formula and change it every time Sarah Palin announces she's not yet ruling out a run for the White House, "at this time."
For a week now everytime I log on at work (on the average, six to ten times a shift) I get a message that my password will expire in so many days (I think I've still got a week--at least the computer recognizes this decision is not to be taken lightly and it gives me ample time to compose [because let's face it, and this I believe is my point, present-day password coming up with is a creation, an exercise in cryptic personal poetry that only Emily Dickinson could fully appreciate]). Now of course I could have been efficiently snarky and, the first time I got the message asking me if I want to change my password now, just typed in as my new password, "noIdont666" and been done with it (actually, that sounds like a good idea; wish I'd thought of it then). But no, one (and now let me take back my earlier praise of the computer's thoughtfulness in giving me such an early warning; with 15 days of countdown time and having to navigate the message every time I log on, I now realize that computer is just contributing to my PMS, making me think I've got plenty of time, but constantly reminding me that the clock is a-tickin' and constantly making me think about starting over from scratch and composing another little gem of personal identification that I can live happily with for the next three months [because that's what it is, isn't it? a password? your own little island of personality and identity in this cold, personal, identity thieving world of ours? and let's not forget that not only am I a tail-cusp Baby Boomer {which automatically should qualify me to be excused from all this technogobbledygook but I'm also a tail-cusper when it comes to typing class, just before the advent of "keyboarding skills" and I didn't grow up banging on a keyboard and I'm a complete doofus when it comes to hunting pecking looking at the keyboard and btw for every typo that finds its way into this blog there are three score that have been corrected in medias res (i.e. these posts don't just roll off my fingers) and now I have to come up with longer and longer passwords for everything and worry about capitals and symbols and numerals {let me here just make an addition to the previous post's modern Roman Numerals: TEBOW=6 out of 22) and then I have to remember the stupid thing {screw the poetry, a password is no such thing, it's stress, man, pure stress, only and always] when I've just gotten used to blindly tapping in the previous one, and speaking of tapping and getting back to the whole typing-challenged thing, it works better for me if my passwords are all accessible by one hand, preferably the left, so my passwords need to be basically all left of the 6yhn keyboard equator and why can't I just type in my obscure middle name, six simple easily typed letters and leave it at that but no for a week now I've trying to come up with the perfect password that satisfies all my special needs and one that won't be rejected when I first plug it in and of course have to enter it at the right moment so in case problems do arise I can reconfigure without customers and Co-Worker and Boss breathing down my neck to complete transaction/log off already and has it really come to this a world full of cyper terrorists and malevolent hackers and identity thieves [wasn't adolescence all about identity crisis, one where you emerged not unscathed but functional and with your identity in cement? and now look at me this new-fangled PMS has got me to the point where for the first time in my life I've lost control of my parentheses and brackets and grammer and punktuation and spelling concerns have fled the ship and metaphor management is three sheets to the rain and somebody please help me i need a password that works and can remember i just want qwerty and correction tape a laddie pencil and futuristic ads about wonderful life will be with computers and where am i what decade is this how do I finish this thing ){]({}]
No comments:
Post a Comment