It has happened. How could I not have foreseen this? With the bludgeoning against my poor synapses, the memory threads were bound to give way. The knowledge database has blown a fuse. My mental librarian has locked herself in the bathroom and is crying into the sink.
The Internet has given me too many passwords. Like any overloaded transducer, the bright pops of memory lapses and the sizzling hair roots were the warning signs that something bad had gone down last night. As I had lain there in bed, my nose sniffing at the frying smell, I decided to search the Web for a good hair weave when I realized there was a gap in my memory. I have gaps where I should find letters, symbols, and numbers in funky combinations to confuse any phishers or hackers trying to get into my various online accounts.
I have forgotten those passwords, which is leaving me confused.
This is sickening at the boundless level of Internet inanity. How many passwords are we supposed to remember?! I counted the number I have: a staggering 16 passwords. 16! I have passwords to my laptop, passwords to the Internet, passwords to email, passwords to shop . . . passwords, passwords, PASSWORDS!
I feel the need to send my mental librarian a lifetime supply of Kleenex.
Out of the 16 passwords, I have forgotten 5 - and one special password needed in everyday life. I have put them into different color categories depending upon how important the passwords are to me.
Orange: Mild annoyance - I probably don’t even visit the site any more. So there is no big loss.
Green: Irritated - It would be nice to remember, but I’m not going to jump off a building because I forgot it.
Red: Mad - I feel something thrumming erratically in my chest. MUST. REACH. PHONE. TO. CALL. FOR. HEL . . .
Blue: Dire - Nurse! We are losing the patient. Defibrillate the heart. STAT!
Purple: Bad, oh so bad! - Attention Readers, we have discovered an asteroid the size of Antarctica is on a direct course for Earth. Please put all your affairs in order and kiss your butt goodbye.
Password number 1: I don’t even remember the name of the website for the forgotten password. Yeah, I can hear my readers laughing.
Password number 2: I remember the name of the website for this one. Yay! Yet every time I tell myself to go there to retrieve the password, I push the thought aside. No big deal because I know there are other Web pages with the same information that I DON’T NEED A PASSWORD FOR - ironic.
Password number 3: I would like to remember this one, especially since I just signed up for it. The website has important information. I’ll try to find the password.
Password number 4: Hee-hee! This is interesting. While remembering this one would be extremely important, I also find it convenient that I had forgotten the password. This one has to do with paying my TAXES. Hey . . . if the IRS decides to audit me, can’t I just claim the Internet ate my homework - er- password?
Password number 5: No joking on this. I forgot the password to my online bank. Downside is that I can’t get in to check my account information. The upside is that if I can’t even figure out the stupid thing, then neither will any hackers. My account is secure, even from me.
Special password: Don’t laugh! Please don’t laugh. But . . . um . . . while filling my noggin with all these Internet nuisances, it seems that I have forgotten the PIN number for my bank card.
I know that last one is bad.
Edit to add: I just got another password. I have officially joined Facebook. I must be a glutton for punishment.