A Simple Complicated Fix

Nothing makes me feel so old and decrepit as having to fight with my computer. I mean, all I wanted to do was transfer funds from my bank account to my credit card. I've been doing that on-line for years. It's always worked.

Until 2 weeks ago. I logged in. Oops, no I didn't. Huh. Head scratch. Double check, same info as always, computer saves it for me. Try again. No joy. Frustration level inching up. Once more, and I get the pop-up that I'm not me and if I try once more and get it wrong, I'll be cut out. The system will treat me as a crook.

It was a busy time of year, cards to send, decorations to put up, family stuff, etc., etc. I just wasn't in the mood and frankly, I was more than caught up on the required payment for the month, so I let it slide.

It nagged at me, but I still wasn't in the mood. It meant I couldn't check my balance, outstanding purchases waiting for approval, credit score changes if any. But even so.

Today was finally the day to really tackle it. Maybe something miraculously had changed. Possible, no?

No.

I was offered a full list of ways the computer thought I'd logged in previously, each dated, all wrong. They were feeding me my log-in identity and I was going for my password.  This was what had happened the first time, and though I typed in my password each time, it rejected it. This time, however, one thing changed. It immediately told me I was running out of chances.

I had an online offer of two ways to handle the fix. Texting was obviously their preferred method.  Please, world, can everybody stop thinking everybody has texting as an option, or even wants to use it if it means tapping each key several times per letter, and who knows where the hell the symbols are? Can you? Huh?

OK, phone them. I called what I thought was the number from the back of my card. With an apparent font size of negative 2, this was just another frustration to add to the process. What I got was a very insistent voice attempting to survey me on my vacation choices with the "promise" of a very nice offer to come. I told her no. After a second's pause, she continued, unintereptedly blathering over about 7 more nos until I just hung up. Must have misdialed. Try again.

This time I got it right. Of course, I carried the previous frustrations with me during this call. I did apologize in advance, refrained from either swearing or simply being impolite, but it fogged my brain enough that my comprehension of the procedures was a little bit lower than what I call my "slightly above computer illiterate" skill level.

Still, it wasn't all just me. The first person ran me through their system, starting with my credentials, then working to change my password after verifying my log in name was correct for my file. About ten minutes of that and it was time to send me to an actual tech expert. Granted, she offered to assist me making a payment first (no charge!) but I wanted more than a one time fix, and took the offer of the expert.

Now there was the need to deal with an accent. I apologized for needing to ask her to slow down and enunciate more clearly. No point antagonizing the person who's your likely last hope, or trying to continue with something you couldn't properly hear when various terms need to be translated anyway. For example, when she said tool bar, I had two to choose from, the one on the side with all my bookmarks and icons, and the tiny strip across the top that says Firefox File Edit View... Help, and goes all the way across to the symbols for battery strength remaining, day and time, wifi signal, and a few I have yet to identify.

Trust me when I say there was a lot of discussion about definitions of terms and where to click next. I can't even tell you about them (yes, you're welcome) because I was playing follow-the-leader rather than gaining comprehension of how to maybe do this myself next time. But there turned out to be one defining moment, when progress could finally be made.

I deleted the cookies on my browser! Imagine: just a matter of cookies!

No, contrary to my concerns, it didn't delete the information in my account for what bank account the payments were pulled from, so that was accomplished, and the tech expert, who patiently remained on the line throughout the process, read back to me her record of the exact dollars and cents transferred. After expressing my gratitude and appreciation, we disconnected.

My phone is now recharging. The battery lasted long enough. Just.

Naturally, I decided to blog about the experience. I suppose, I might also have expected I needed to log in to the blog as I was currently somebody unrecognized as having the authority to do so.

Ya think there might be more fun ahead?