Ah, passwords. The digital version of keys—but worse, because you can’t just stick a spare under the mat.

Every single website demands a password these days. Want to check your email? Password. Pay a bill? Password. Log into your grocery store account to save 30 cents on bananas? PASSWORD. And don’t even think about reusing an old one. That’s a crime punishable by endless “security alerts.”

Creating a password is a high-stakes game. First, you try something simple: “fluffycat123.” But no, that’s not good enough. The site demands at least one uppercase letter, one number, one special character, and the blood of your firstborn. Fine. FluffyCat#123!

“Too weak,” it says. Too weak? Listen, I don’t need this kind of judgment from a pop-up box. It’s a password, not a Kryptonian battle plan.

So, you add more. FluffyCat#123SavesTheWorld2023! Finally, it accepts your masterpiece, and you feel a surge of pride… until you forget it the next day.

Which brings us to password managers. These apps are supposed to simplify your life, but let’s be honest: they’re just another thing you forget the password for. You try to log in, only to get hit with the dreaded “Forgot Password?” button.

Now you’re on the reset password treadmill, where they ask you security questions that seem designed to mock you. “What was the name of your first pet?” I don’t know! I was five! Did I even name the goldfish, or did we just call it “Fishy”?

And let’s not talk about two-factor authentication. At first, it seems like a great idea. “Extra security,” they say. But now you’re chasing a six-digit code sent to your phone, which you can’t access because you forgot the password to that, too.

But the real kicker? The sites that force you to change your password every 90 days. Look, if someone’s hacking into my account just to see my electric bill, let them!

I don’t have the energy to invent yet another password that sounds like a secret society chant.

And then there are the “smart” devices.

They’re connected to everything—your lights, your thermostat, your toaster—each one demanding its own password. Yes, my toaster has a password. No, I don’t know why. I just want toast, not a digital security clearance.

Yet somehow, I’m grateful. Why? Because these password fiascos have made me creative. I now have a mental Rolodex of gibberish phrases that could double as book titles. DancingBanana42!SparklePenguin97!TurboWaffles!2023!

So here’s to the eternal battle of the passwords. You’ve frustrated me, humbled me, and taught me that no matter how advanced technology gets, nothing will ever be as secure as writing things down in a notebook labeled “DO NOT LOSE.”

But seriously, if anyone’s listening: can we just go back to fingerprint scanners? At least I can’t forget those.