I’m sitting at my desk typing away when suddenly the computer shuts down. After a prolonged process of determining what’s wrong, some tech-head said, “You’ll need to restore your system.” Oh, yeah, I remember that term. Now, where did I put those disks? Oh, great, here they are. I finally locate all ten of them resting on a shelf between “Elvis’ Greatest Hits” and Credence Clearwater Revival. Okay, great, now let’s get this sucker working again.
Ah, the magic of technology! My screen is once again filled with icons. But wait a minute, I thought I removed that program a long time ago. At this moment I realize that this “restore” program is what I started with when I bought this computer. In a moment of panic, I check my files list and discover to my relief that it’s all still there. Okay, a little glitch, but not a problem. I really do need to check into that backup thing.
Now, as I start to log on to the number of important websites I keep pulled up all the time, such as Facebook, Associated Content and Yahoo Games, I realize I have to retype my password. Hmmm, which one did I use? Let me try one of these I use most often: hurry22. Don’t like that, huh? How about hurry 44? Maybe I better just own up to the fact that I don’t have a clue and click on that “Forgot Password” thing.
This is good, a security question. What’s my favorite sport? Wonder what I put in there? I try football, an obvious choice, but alas, that doesn’t work. How about wrestling? Sometimes I get a little too clever for my own good. Don’t like that either, huh. Now, the website is thinking I must be one of those computer hackers, and it’s informing me that it will send me an email. Hmmm, wonder what email address I gave them when I signed up years ago? I don’t think I was on this server then. I guess I could go check one of those Yahoo addresses, but then I’d have to have that password. Jeezze! And I know that’s not happening.
Let me look under “Help” here. There’s bound to be a place for goofballs like me who forget to write down those precious passwords. You know, I blame Bill Gates for this problem anyway. If software programs weren’t so smart and remembered my passwords for me, then I’d have these written down somewhere.
Okay, I have to log in to get to the “Help” page. There’s a brainstorm. I’m in a bit of Catch 22 here.
Oh, forget it. I’ll call my tech guy and ask him how to fix my new problem. Oh, shoot, my cell phone’s dead and his number is in the “address” file. Technology certainly has made my life much better.