So not only is the stock market broken because of wacky political situations, but parts of it are also broken because everyone is freaking out that the information that they were sharing on Facebook was being shared. And maybe everyone else is better at remembering their passwords for their financial institutions or not having their debit cards shut off for stupid reasons because my banks are way creepier than most of the social media companies out there.

Aside: Twitter, my preferred social network, is just guessing when it is trying to categorize me demographically. It has put me in both the “Affluent baby boomers” demographic as well as the “New moms” demographic. The youngest baby boomers are in their 50s, so I don’t expect many people are in the intersection of those two categories.

There is some sort of database out there which purports to attach names to addresses. When I was hit by a car in 2002, the insurance agent for the driver who hit me used that database to connect me to my parents house (where I have not lived since 1991). When I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance this summer, for some reason the ambulance company never got my correct address, and they sent the ambulance bills to my parents’ house – probably based on that same database.

Maybe you never have to call the bank like an idiot because you are bad at adulting and you can’t find any of your account information or there is some sort of weird fraud alert on your card, and you keep trying to buy things, and it keeps getting declined, or you are sitting in the boarding gate at an international airport and realizing that you should probably call the card issuer so that you can access some money when you are in Europe (Kann ich meine amerikanische Kreditkarte hier benutzen? Sie hat kein Chip. Nur Streifen.). In any event, when you call up knowing absolutely nothing about your account situation, they ask you really creepy questions. Like, the social networks that we are freaking out about are total amateur hour here. They ask me things like the color of a car that I owned 20 years ago. What street I lived on when particular people were my neighbors. Oddly specific questions. I would not be surprised if they asked me what library books I had checked out recently or what toppings I get on my poki bowls.

And after all that, the rep on the phone helpfully pointed out that my online user ID is printed on the card with a dash between the two parts, but you leave out the dash when you log on via their web page. Since I had written the password on the back of the card with a Sharpie marker, I could have used the self-service online system without trying to remember if the Honda Civic was ever registered in my name.

(Headache update: This morning I had a headache so bad that it woke me up at 3:30am. The medicine made it go away for several hours, but then it came back in the afternoon. Can I blame the time that I was hit by a car in 2002 for all these headaches? They start near the part of my head with the hole in my brain, and the hole in my brain is right near the scars on my scalp from where I shattered the windshield with my head.)