I wanted to get back online and make a post here, for reasons I shall presently describe; but vexations supervened.
In the first place, the password manager on my faithful old Mac has managed to metagrobolize its data. I have (or had, until today) three different login IDs and passwords that all claimed to belong to this site, none of which worked. I therefore had to get GoDaddy’s tech support to let me in. But first—
Yesterday, my Beloved Bride spent two fruitless hours standing in line at a government office, waiting to submit a request for paperwork, only to be sent home unserved and empty-handed at closing time. We then tried to submit the necessary form online, with endless trouble about uploading scans of supporting documents, and just as we had the problem sorted—
My cable modem decided to pack up and go on strike. The local cable monopolists don’t have telephone tech support after office hours, so I had to contact their online support; but with my Internet connection out, I couldn’t get online to do it. I tried using my mobile phone, only to be told that their site did not support my browser. Updating the browser requires a WiFi connection, which I did not have for the above-mentioned reasons. (‘There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.’)
Eventually I jury-rigged a connection from my laptop to the world through my phone, and spent an hour or so talking to a junior technical clown, only to discover that my cable modem had disappeared off the face of the virtual earth. They could not even detect its presence from their end. So they ordered a technician to come out this Saturday and replace the bricked modem, the coaxial cable, or both, as required. I then cursed the name of the electron and went to bed.
This morning, my Internet connection was mysteriously restored. Strike over; I suppose the modem’s demands, whatever they were, were conceded by management. I was therefore able to get on with the next stage, and try to get myself logged in at my own blog. (‘With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza?’)
An hour or so on the telephone with a very helpful young technical clown (he does not deserve the title, but circumstances thrust it upon him) got me nowhere, except face to face with a blank login screen for a PHP support site at which I had no known account ID and no password. My WordPress installation allegedly emailed me a link to reset my password – twice – but the emails never arrived, even when helpfully kicked by a pair of gigantic technical clown shoes. (‘With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza?’)
Meanwhile, through clicking in the wrong place on the wrong screen, I found a back door into the site from my GoDaddy hosting account. There, nested about five levels deep in the menus, was a place where I could issue myself a new password. I did so, cut and pasted it, and was able to let myself back in by the front door of my blog. (‘With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, you twit!’)
And now here I am, just before the end of the day in my time zone; which is significant (to me), because it is still my umpty-umpth birthday. I admit to 123, but my friends who flatter me say I don’t look a day over 115. I have my doubts on that score. It seems like an auspicious day to resume blogging at the old stand; and I hope I shall.
So greetings to my 3.6 Loyal Readers, if you’re still with me; and pray for me, I beseech you, that I don’t have to go through all that circus again.
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