May 2nd: Password Hell


Not sure why hell is on my mind but we went from Winter and incessant rain to hellish heat which triggered a rabid hunt for bike shorts and shorts in general and well that took a while…

Then when I finally thought I had an extra hour to pen another chapter of my novel, I restarted my computer, put on some music, did a little deep breathing and stretches, and then, opening my eyes and looking at my screen, I got all sorts of login boxes asking me for passwords. I’ve been here before and apparently, it’s a major Apple bug but of course with my befuddled brain I couldn’t remember what I had done last time to fix it.

So that meant endless reading on Apple forums. The key was, aha, that my keychain thing wouldn’t even launch (spinning beach ball– which meant I had to look up again how you do a force quit on a Mac and I had to do all of that on my phone because my internet wouldn’t budge because of the damn keychain issue as well).

However, after much trial and error, I found the solution (taking the Keychain folder out of the Library folder– which, in case you’re interested, is invisible on the new operating systems) and aaaaaaah, the annoying login boxes were gone but it meant I had to change a bunch of passwords on things I use regularly, which meant changing passwords on my phone and desktop and by the time I was done with that, I had lost my window of creative opportunity because now I have to start thinking about dinner, and shit… give Frankie his insulin shot.

Working from home is swell but every time I do work in an office, I’m ready to kiss the tech support guys (but not really, because they aren’t really hot and usually have a lot of facial hair): troubleshooting these things on my own can consume hours of reading and frustration, and I usually can figure it out but feel pretty damn stupid and I admit the stuff interests me as much as tax returns (Donald’s excluded).

OK. I have to tell you an upbeat story now because studies show negative people live much shorter lives, so if I tell you a Debbie Downer story, I should offset it with a Happy Harriet story, just to increase my life span.

So here goes: I got an email from a mother of a former student of mine and she needed a children’s poem translated into Dutch. She’s Dutch herself but having been out of the country for long, she didn’t dare do it herself. I happily translated that one as it was a nice change of pace from translating instructions for home alarms and translations for the iOS interface of an app (thankfully, the word keychain was not part of it) and when I sent her the poem back, she was over the moon with it. I don’t get that kind of job satisfaction every day but to be appreciated like that is a big part of why we get out of bed in the morning at all.

After that I went for a ride but I came back huffing and puffing because it was sweltering hot.

Back to Henry Miller:

My donation progress meter is stuck at $1945, an important year for the ending of WWII in Europe and Asia but it was also important for Henry, as the war forced him to leave France, and really closed off his French period (he would return to Paris later in life, but never felt the same again about it). Coming back to the States triggered a profound culture shock (see The Air-Conditioned Nightmare) and an uphill battle to get his novels published and read in the US. I should do something with that number, 1945. I mean, for my Henry Miller blog. Like take pp. 19 and 45 of Tropic of Cancer and do a close reading.

When I was studying in Chapel Hill, I had an awesome American Lit prof and when we were doing Moby Dick, I will never forget how he showed us that the first chapter of MD was a microcosm of the entire book. Lots of foreshadowing of things to come and lots of symbolism. Now that’s the sort of fun I like. It beats not progressing on that novel, keychain frustration, interface translations and bike rides in the blistering heat (what was I thinking?).

I need a drink.


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One Response to May 2nd: Password Hell

  1. melanielight23 says:

    I so relate to the IT struggle and am waiting any minute for my old desktop to die, during a vital moment of work which will be destroyed.

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