Rage

One of life's little pleasures these days is to spend countless hours of quality time with tech support. 
The live chat experience went well as it usually does, no issues until the billing department had to get involved to unlock an account because of too many log-in attempts. (Like many companies, billing and tech support don't actually talk to each other, and are only vaguely aware of the others existence. In fact, they only get to meet once a year at the Xmas party which, incidentally,  is where the rumour that Harry shagged Sally came from.)
But I digress.
After receiving copious e-mails from this company exhorting me to renew before the expiry date, they somehow couldn't get an e-mail to me with a new link to change the password and suggested that I really should check my spam folder. When I got tired of waiting for an e-mail and called them to speed things up, the very nice lady at the other end with the large barking dog and screaming baby in the background assured me that she would send the e-mail to another of my e-mail accounts. She did, and I replied.
But then the billing department got involved again and asked for more ID. (What was that Flanders and Swann song about the gas man?)

And that, Mr Blip, is why you're looking at the only photo I took today.

Ah well. Until tomorrow....