Tag: first world blues

The Password Shuffle

An email arrived. Tricare4U received and processed a recent claim.

Uh oh.

I expect to have a bout of acute passworditis soon.

Many Americans suffer from passworditis. The condition is brought on by websites not accepting passwords despite meeting all their stated requirements. Symptoms may include deep depression, a desire to drink heavily, incoherent screaming and swearing, high blood pressure, and a feeling of deep exhaustion accompanied by a temptation to go to bed and pull the covers over your head.

I also sometimes expire these symptoms of passworditis while using WordPress, but that’s about ‘features’ which act in capricious ways.

Tricare4U is part of the Defense Department’s healthcare labyrinth. I’ve been using Tricare variations since 1995, when I retired from the Air Force. Dealing with any Tricare issue is rarely fun and never easy. Logging on is usually the worse part. This is done through DS Log On.

As my friend Jill would say, GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

The passwords expire every 60 days. Installing a new one is a pain from hell. They have nine requirements. All are reasonable requirements. My new password meets all nine requirements. I know that because all nine requirements begin in red. As you fulfill one, it turns green. .

I must fill it into the new password box. Everything is green.

Then I add it again to confirm the password. These again show colors when it all works.

Despite everything showing as green, i.e., good to go, the submit button to complete the password change won’t come up. I stall out at that point every friggin’ time.

I used three different browsers.

Closed all windows and rebooted my computer.

Cleared my cache.

I have made twelve attempts in sixty-five minutes. I remain mired in password hell.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

I’m shutting it down for now. More coffee is required before I try again. All this to see what they say about my claim. Will I owe? What obtuse reasoning will they use?

Sigh. Not a fun beginning to my Twosda. It’s not good for my health. Ironic?

Don’t ask me.

6

Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts

Time for some first world blues. I’m in the coffee shop. Music is playing. Business is booming and the baristas are scrambling, shouting out order details, clarifications, comments. Machines grind, hiss, and whirl with energy. Other customers are set up to chat, read, type. Conversations rise and fall.

Above it all is a man with a baritone theater voice. He’s on his cell phone. Although he’s across the room from me, his voice echos above all other sounds. Maybe it’s a matter of acoustics. He’s calling to different businesses to make purchases and complaints. He’s pedantic but polite. His first three calls are flavored with a condescending attitude toward the people on the other end.

“Do you have my email address?” he asks again and again.

“You have a screen in front of you, don’t you?” he asks. “Look at the screen. Does it have an email address? What is that email address for me? And my phone number. No, this is what you should have. 541111111.” This is repeated. “Yes, it’s seven ones in a row after the area code.”

I respect that it could be worse. I could be at home, typing on my computer, responding to my wife and cat, becoming annoyed with them. I could be trapped in an airport, waiting for a delayed flight, or in traffic somewhere, wondering why traffic isn’t moving. I could be sweating it out with an injury or disease, or fretting over a loved one’s health. I could be poor and homeless, hunting for a meal and a little relief from the elements.

I’m normally effective at filtering sounds out of my awareness. His voice and conversations are just one of those things annoying me today. That’s my problem, though.

That’s why I rant.

0

Munda’s Wandering Thought

I visited Ashlandia’s Rite Aid. I haven’t been there in months. My Neurons go on an Easter egg hunt to remember when I was last there. “Before Christmas,” they suggest. They’re not sure.

The Rite Aid feels like a perfect metaphor for Ashlandia. It was doing well. Then they decided to modernize it. They enlarged the space. Stock was added. Alcohol and frozen food sections tripled in size. The store is adjacent to an Albertson’s, and across the street from two other stores which provide these offerings at low prices. Apparently, Rite Aid, with its consistently higher prices, thought they could grab some impulse buys from their pharmacy business. It’s only one of two pharmacies in town.

I think Rite Aid guessed wrong. A graveyard silence greets me when I enter. I seriously wonder if there’s anyone else in the store. Ideas of finding a pile of dead bodies come up. I finally see another person. They don’t look like a killer. Neither did Ted Bundy, I hear.

Many Rite Aid shelves are empty, same as my last visit. A solid offering of wines is available. Decent prices, too. I don’t have any wine needs. I move on.

I’m not here to shop. Our household has a continuing need to get rid of used things. Batteries, light bulbs, paints, and outdated prescriptions are part of that list. We have meds that haven’t been used since Obama’s first administration. Containers holding them line several shelves in a hall cupboard. Getting rid of these things is another first world blues matter for us.

My wife initiated this visit. “They have new drug disposal drop off locations. Blue boxes. There’s supposed to be one in Rite Aid. We should take a look.”

I volunteer to do it while I’m out. Missions like these are milk runs.

Using store layout knowledge, I find the blue box without problem. Instructions are provided. Open door. Drop in meds. Close door. Easy peasy.

The door won’t open. I look for releases and additional instructions. Try again. And again. Three tries are a charm, I hear.

A pharmacist comes over. “The box is locked,” he says. “You need to see a store employee to drop something off.”

Very convenient. Not. “That’s not what the instructions say,” I say. I point to the sign.

“Each store is given discretion to handle it as they want.”

“Shouldn’t some instructions be put up that you need to have an employee unlock and open it?”

“Probably. We had to do it. People were putting trash in.”

No probably about it to me. That would be good customer service. I look around the empty store and thank the pharmacist. He returns to his fortress.

I think I’m starting to see why Rite Aid has so many empty shelves.

0

Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I announced, “They want me to send them a photo.”

This aggrieved me. Everyone wants photos of things sent these days. I consider the trend of wanting photos part of the inexorable enshittification of modern society.

My wife was non-committal about her take on it. Sympathetic noises were made. I suspect she wasn’t paying attention.

Breaking down, I dragged out my phone, opened it to the camera app, and took a photo of our Lifepro Near Red-light Therapy belt. Yes, it took about twenty seconds. The time is not the point.

The belt had ceased working. We’d purchased it in October of 2023 through Amazon. It has a lifetime warranty.

The RLT impressed my wife and me. She used it to cope with painful back and shoulder flares caused by RA. I regularly used it to reduce swelling on my legs, ankles, and feet, where I’ve been dealing with lymphedema. I missed using it.

After the belt quit working, I went into my Amazon records and contacted the sellers. Happiness responded for them. Seeing that it was ‘happiness’ answering made me suspicious. We’re in a world where a documented liar calls himself the most honest man in the world, a world where the same man has cheated throughout his life but is supported by people as the Second Coming of Jesus. It has made me a little cynical.

Happiness asked for the order number and date of order. I provided that. Now they wanted a photo and directed me to a form.

The photo was part of an online form I needed to fill out. Grumbling about it, I put the order number in — again — click/copy/paste, filled out all the info, repeating many of the things already done, and then attached the photo. It took almost two minutes. Yeah.

Returning to email, I replied to Happiness and told them that I’d submitted the form. They thanked me and told me my issue would be reviewed and they’d get back to me in two to four days.

I expected to be given a return number. Told how to box it up and where to send it.

Instead, they sent me a new product. This wasn’t from Happiness but from Lifepro Support. Gave me a UPS tracking number and everything.

“What trickery is this?” I asked myself.

The replacement arrived yesterday. Brand new.

I wanted to verify some things for myself. I connected the new cord to the old belt. The cord has three separate segments which can be plugged in and unplugged, etc. This allows you to plug it into a UBS port or plug it into the wall. I always use the UBS port. Through my tests, I confirmed that it was only this segment of cord which didn’t work.

I wrote Lifepro Support to inform them that it was only the one piece that wasn’t working. That meant that I now had two working belts. Asked if they wanted me to send either back.

No, they responded. You can send it back if you want. or keep both. If you do want to send one back, tell us and we’ll give you the instructions. They thanked me for my honestly.

It was a good experience. Happiness and Lifepro Support always responded fast. They were friendly and professional, and the company stood behind their product. When I began, I thought I’d be chewing my nails in frustration by the end. I’m pleased that this wasn’t the case. Kylie, Jae, Renee, and Chad did a great job. The entire process took nine days.

And one photograph.

0

Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

I am again mystified. This isn’t shoutitfromtheroof news. I’m often mystified.

I know I mystify others, too. Especially my wife. She often avoids asking questions to clarify, preferring to express her doubts and confusion with her facial expressions. I used to ask her, “What’s that look for?” when I was young. I don’t make those inquiries these days.

My mystification is again with other people. Specifically, other drivers. They often mystify me. Cars stop four car lengths back from the car in front of them. “Why do they do that?” I ask myself and my wife. We laundry list reasons for fun. It’s not satisfying because I never know the real answer.

Other driving aspects which mystify me is the lack of adherence to speed limits. It’s not that I’m worried about speeding. I speed. No, the other drivers’ weird behavior in regards to speed limits trigger me. “It was thirty-five,” I tell my wife. “And they were going thirty. Now it’s a twenty-five miles an hour limit and they’re still going thirty.”

“I think most drivers don’t pay attention,” my wife says.

I agree with her in principle, but I don’t know. That bugs me.

The latest driving mystery involves turn signals. “I’ve noticed a new trend,” I tell my wife. “People are coming to a traffic light, stopping at the red light, but if they’re turning, they’re not putting on their turn signals before until they start to turn. Why do they do that? Don’t they understand what a turn signal is about?”

“Maybe they forgot where they’re going,” my wife says.

That’s possible. But I don’t know. That bugs me.

Returning from the library the other day, she rushed in and said, “You’re right. I had three different drivers not turn on their turn signal until they began turning. What’s going on? Why are they doing that?”

“Right?” I respond. I’m very pleased.

It’s always good to have someone else join your party.

0

Keep On Keeping On

Daily writing prompt
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
View all responses

Well, the challenge is to keep on keeping on. I get tired and frustrated. Like, “Oh my God, I have to vacuum the floor again? It’s time to take out the trash? I just took out the trash.” I mean, the tedium of these things… The weariness builds and grows…

My wife is with me on this. It seems like she’s washing clothes every other day. There are just two of us living in the house. How in the world do we use so many clothes?

Then there is the irritating, always-asked question: “What should we do for dinner?”

This is truly a song of the first world blues when you’re complaining about what I have to cook to eat. Like, waah.

Which delivers me on the doorstep of the biggest challenges facing me in the next six months. To keep perspective. To remind myself that things like higher gas prices are minor for me but major for others. To remember that my health complaints are minor and not to get too absorbed about who I am and what’s bothering me. Because let me tell you, brothers and sisters, there are many out there with a much worse fucking life than me.

That’s the challenge to keep in mind.

2

WordPress Blues

I’ve read others’ comments about comments getting rejected by WordPress. Last week, it struck me. I’d type up a comment, click comment, and WP replied, “This comment couldn’t be posted” or words to that effect.

It doesn’t happen with everyone’s blogs. It’s irritatingly random. First time, the poster had written about bowel movements and their poo. I commented and added a facet about menstrual cycles. When my comments were rejected, I wondered if it was about the subject or my word choices. But since then, I’ve had comments rejected about car repairs, animals, food, news, and politics.

Just one of those mysterious afflictions which sometimes strike modern technology, I suppose.

7

Wenzda’s Wondering Thoughts

I might read and watch too many mysteries and thrillers. When I was shoveling off our walks and driveway, I flashed to different film and television show scenes where they’re digging to bury a body, recover a body, or looking for evidence. I didn’t find any of those things. Not even treasure.

Also, we survived the storm well. One of the comments my wife and I said to each other was about how dark the bathrooms were due to snow covering the solar tubes and skylights. We are such spoiled first world people.

0

Loading Problem Fixed

So, some things were not loading in any browser (Edge, Chrome, Firefox). Not everything; it was an odd mix. Updates had been conducted, diagnosis run, etc. Wasn’t deeply affecting my ability to surf the net so I mostly just ignored it. I figured some update would be installed at some point which would fix it.

That didn’t happen.

Then it grew worse. Suddenly my ‘puter began telling me that I was in Airplane mode all the friggin’ time. Again, not a serious issue but annoying to me and also a concern that there may be deeper issues at work.

So, on a whim today, I ran updates on my drivers. Turned out my WiFi driver wouldn’t update. Ran some stuff to fix that, and all the network stuff just disappeared. Adapter wouldn’t turn on; didn’t even show up. Wireless switch didn’t work. For all intents and purposes (or intensive purposes…chuckle), my laptop’s wireless didn’t exist.

With a deep-throated GRRRRRRR building in my head, I pulled out an ethernet cable and went wired with my laptop to connect to the net. Next I did some brief searches about the problem. Really inane and simplistic solutions were offered. Like, “Check the wireless password and ensure that is right.” That was just red meat to the GRRRRRRR within me. But finally, with patience, I found a site that knew what was up. It directed me to my Services where it was revealed that Windows had turned off my WLAN AutoConfig. WTF, right? Right-clicked that puppy and joy was achieved. I was wireless again and everything loaded.

We have joy in mudville once again.

4

Satrda’s Wandering Thoughts

There’s a disturbance in the force. I mean, the Internet. It doesn’t appear Trump related. Doesn’t seem to be politically connected at all.

The short of it, many games won’t load on my laptop. I’m running Windows. Surfing on Opera, Chrome, Edge. None will load the games in normal or whatever ‘stealth’ offering the browser provides. Started yesterday afternoon. Research on the net about it is useless. Search engines focus on one aspect of the question posed. In this case, they’re all about giving me answers to games. Answers to questions I didn’t ask. Information which I don’t desire.

I’m not talking multi-role games. This is Connections and Wordle at the NYTimes. Sudoku at the Seattle Times and NY Times. Spelling Bee plays fine, as does several other games. Error messages say things like, “Yikes, you’re offline.” Yet I’m not offline.

Actually, I just tried a new, broader variation of the question on DuckDuckGo. ‘can’t play games online’. Answers remain useless but at least it’s focused on my issue. Must be your connection, they tell me. Your browser. Your firewall settings, or security. Nothing that touches the nub that the rest of the net works fine, and no settings were changed and all settings are per usual, and diagnostics show nothing. My wife’s Mac laptop doesn’t share the issue. And yes, the cache has been cleared, of course. Yes, I powered up and down. Yes, everything is updated. No, the sites are not reported as down. No issues are reported on them.

Overall, it’s a small thing. More first world blues. Just annoying to me, personally. I like playing my games and getting a little rush from completing them. The larger question is, is it my machine? Or is it the net? My bet is on the latter but it’ll take time for that to be revealed.

Guess I’ll just read a book instead. Halfway through ‘The Library at Mount Char’ per my wife’s recommendaton. It’s sucking me in. Gotta go out into the gloomy day and write soon anyway.

3

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