Oh my invisible friends, you have no idea how close we were to parting ways forever.
Last night google wouldn't accept my password. No, they hadn't shut down my account for nefarious activity including my disinclination to heed their spell-check advice. It just didn't work.
Chris had gone to bed early, so I let him sleep (hear that, honey?). I tried to go to bed myself, and lay there, saucer-eyed in the semi-darkness. I may have slept with my eyes open, with a look of panic still on my face.
As an aside, nothing is better than falling asleep in a room lit with moonlight reflected off snow.
Back to the End of Times. I waited until 8 this morning to start begging Chris to fix my google account (heavens to betsy just do something already oh my lord I can't take it anymore is it fixed yet?). I show him how when I put in the password the page keeps refreshing with a captcha (which, what? Captcha is a correctly spelled word now?). We go to the page where one resets the password. It says it will send the link to a secondary email address. Which is precisely why I didn't do that last night.
My secondary email address is redirected to gmail and the domain that hosts it is not accessible to mere mortals. So the password info will be sent to the email address I can't access because I can't get the password it's sending me, with which I could access the email account to get the password to access the account to change the password to get the email to change the account to enter the password on the account I can't access. To get the password.
(eyes spinning dangerously)
I continue to have a nervous breakdown because not only is google the proud keeper of all my email, IT HOSTS MY BLOG. And google reader. In short, life as I know it. While I am having my nervous breakdown, Chris is on the phone with our host (we are parasites?) and has my secondary email redirected to one of my other 700 email addresses - the password to which I remember, miraculously.
There is something on the help page which says "do not attempt to access your account for 24 hours" and we both brace ourselves for the hardest 24 hours of our entire marriage.
I get the link from my re-redirected secondary email and type in my password which is my old password but I am calling it my new password for their purposes because I will learn how to do backflips if google asks me to and typing in my old/new password seems to be not so much to ask.
Chris and I both read the 24 hours bit again, and collectively conclude that we only have to wait 24 hours if the password thingy didn't pop up. Which it did. We hold our breaths, and I open gmail.
It's good to be back among the living. Now if someone could please convince Lucy that the time for singing Christmas songs is over, life would be pretty much perfect.
me: uh, can you re-redirect my redirected email so I don't have to check multiple accounts?
We are waiting for the end of the guy's shift before calling back to have it switched back. I'm thinking about hanging out in the ISP's parking lot and monitoring the door. It is impossible to please me.