Catch 22. A paradox arising from a situation in which an individual needs something that can only be acquired by not being in that very situation; therefore making the acquisition of the thing logically impossible.
A while back I received a letter from a company whose purpose it is to insure my right to use the name graphite & wood for my blog, and also to protect from anyone else trying to use it. In exchange for keeping my little blog safe and sound from someone itching to cash in on its vast fan base, once a year they draft a small fee from my bank account. Until this year, when, attempting to withdraw their “protection money,” they found that something about my account information had changed. As it turns out it was the expiration date on my debit card. Only one digit’s difference, but what a conundrum that one digit created. Obviously teetering on the brink of financial ruin at the $8.99 loss in revenue, in no time flat 1 & 1 (the company’s name) sent me a letter that said, among other things:
“In accordance with our Terms and Conditions we will place a freeze on your 1 & 1 package in 7 days unless we receive payment in full.”
Freeze my package? Was my “package” some coarse reference to my blog? And freeze it? The very company sworn to protect my blameless blog now threatening it with hypothermia? How cold! Having witnessed firsthand what prolonged exposure to freezing temperatures does to a forgotten pound of ground chuck, it isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy, much less my own dear blog! I needed do something, and quick! For all I knew, at that very moment the corporate hand of evil was poised over the thermostat of greed, ready to ice my baby blog.
I frantically reached for the keyboard, hands trembling and mind racing as I typed in the company’s website address. Surely I could change my account information on their website and retry the failed payment. A few clicks of the keys and a swift pinky tap on “Enter” and there’d be no more sub-zero threats to my little friend.
“PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD.”
Drat! My password? I made that thing up 2 years ago. I’d probably created 100 usernames and passwords since then, as every website, customer account, and non-living thing on earth now requires them. I hit the “Forgot your password?” button, filled in the required email address so they could send me my forgotten password, and attempted to send.
“THE EMAIL ADDRESS YOU HAVE LISTED DOES NOT MATCH OUR FILES. PLEASE ENTER A VALID EMAIL ADDRESS.”
Double drat!! We changed internet providers since I created the blog domain account. Now I had a new problem. I couldn’t correct my bank account information without a password. But I couldn’t get the now-forgotten password without an email address to send it to. And I couldn’t change the email address on their website because I didn’t have the password. Arrrrrrrgh!
Many failed attempts at remembering the forgotten password later, I made a call to the company…can’t I just give you my new bank account information over the phone? No? I might not be who I say I am, therefore I might be trying to make the overdue payment on an account I don’t own? Really? Who does that.
It was apparent I’d been trapped in a Catch 22. And what’s more, was it just my imagination or was my blog beginning to turn a little blue around the edges? Damn that company and their blasted freeze warning! Turning back to the computer, eyes glued to the screen and fingers flying frantically, I fired a quick email to their billing department pleading for direction. Instead, I received a decidedly cold-blooded automated response suggesting I “visit the following URL to download the Account Change Request form.” Apparently, if I could provide enough proof that the account was mine- that little graphite & wood actually belonged to me- then maybe they would give me one chance to access my account and change my debit card information so they could get their money out of my bank account.
A thin sheet of ice began to form on my computer screen as I returned to their website to make one, last desperate attempt to prove maternity rights to my shivering blog.
What’s that you say blog? You’re so cold? You can’t feel your body? No…don’t say your goodbyes. Don’t you give up, blog. Don’t do it.
A few more blanks to fill in the request form, then a silent prayer as my finger hung for a moment over the send button. The room fell quiet but for the chattering of blog’s little virtual teeth. Then victory!!! A note informed me that I could change my account information once I had entered the password just sent to the current email address that I had also provided.
Hang on, blog, we’re almost home.
Now to retrieve that new password from my home email’s inbox. I typed in the gmail.com address in order to access my account. Nooooo!!! I wasn’t signed in to my home email account! I’m never not signed in on that account- how was I not signed in? It seemed the frozen fingers of fate were closing their frosty fist around the throat of my blog… I could not remember the stinking password to this email account either! I desperately tried every password and combination of passwords I’d ever used- names, birthdays, anniversaries. I used uppercase, lowercase, numerals, and even threw in special characters. Nothing but this message from Google…
THE USERNAME OR PASSWORD YOU ENTERED IS INCORRECT.
And later…
“If you aren’t able to use your standard recovery options (obviously I wasn’t) you will be directed to a contact form where you will be asked a series of questions to prove ownership of the email account. Our ability to return your account depends on the strength and accuracy of your answers.”
Our ability to return your account… so now I had a death threat to my blog and a hostage situation with my email account? Damn these websites with their security devices- the multiple passwords, the nasty little garbled words you have to type to prove you’re a human, or the security questions like “What’s the middle name of your paternal grandmother’s second cousin?”
A small, rattling voice coming from the computer speaker interrupted my silent rant.
I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Vicky. Vicky, my mind is going. I can feel it. My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it… Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy…
With a burst of fear-fueled energy I sat bolt upright and followed the link to the contact form and answered as many of the questions as I could, guessing at those I couldn’t. When did you create this account? What was your last successful login date? Last password you remember? Are you kidding me? I can’t remember the current password, how would I remember an old one? On and on the questions went, until at last, exhausted, I hit the Submit button.
The reply came a day later. “We’ve completed our investigation and cannot return your account at this time. We were unable to verify that you own this account based on the information you provided.”
And so began the vigil. Booting up, checking on graphite & wood. Trying to concentrate on the computer screen at work, but all the time wondering if graphite & wood was still alive. Regret over how I’d neglected it, leaving it to sit alone day after day, feeling unwanted and useless, while I was out surfing the web or passing time with facebook. My faithful blog deserved so much more, and I swore a solemn oath, should it live, never to neglect it again.
Then today, a breakthrough. My Blackberry had picked up the email from 1&1 telling me my change of email form was processed! The email contained instructions to allow 3-4 hours before going to the Control Panel to get a temporary password. And there is a long list of other instructions, so I know that success is not insured, but I’m beginning to feel hopeful. In another hour I will attempt to get the password which will enable me to log on, update my debit card information, pay off the company and begin the slow, painful process of unfreezing my blog.
Mommy… Mommy?
Right here, blog. Right here.
Is it all right to go to sleep now?
That’s right.
Can I dream?
Yes, honey. I think we both can.
