Today I got the notice that it was time for the approximately annual changing-of-the-password ritual at work. It seems that each time this aggravating transfer of computing power takes place, the rules about what cannot be acceptable become increasingly Byzantine. Sure enough, this time, between the increased variety of word length, number of numeric characters and number of previous choices unavailable, I found myself stymied for over five minutes and finally left with a password which I am convinced I will not be able to remember for more than a half hour. What is the point? Now I have a password that I have to have written down so that I will be able to do my job, despite the fact that this presumably makes it measurably more likely that it will be stolen. Once again, I’m living Mugato’s life: “I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!”
On the good side, though, we had a couple interesting beetles just now on the windows up here – on the outside, there was one of the thin borers, a yellow-and-black wasp-like beetle sort of reminiscent of an Elder Borer. I think I’ll call it a Younger Borer, after Cole Younger, who was notoriously unexciting at parties. Meanwhile, on the inside and just a couple of feet away, there was a sort of darkish, almost orange, Firefly-looking beetle. The resemblance was almost uncanny, what with the blocked-in greasepaint moustache, the heavy, waggling eyebrows and the ever-present cigar. All we needed was a large, buxom Dumont Beetle nearby, gasping in shock, to make the similarity complete. I don’t know what either of them actually were, but I have to say that I don’t actually care that much.