In order to function in this modern world, I have to remember fourteen PIN numbers and passcodes. Fourteen! No wonder I’m flat out remembering the names of our children; whoever they are?
And since last Friday, my signature was no longer considered secure, so I was given another PIN to remember, which brings the total to fifteen. Oh, goodie.
Apparently credit card fraud has risen to three hundred million a year so the banks have decided to act; because if anyone is going to rip off Australia’s banking customers then it ought to be them.
Like the charming folk from one particular bank who recently frittered away a hundred million dollars from the accounts of their loyal clients. Which bank? Well, I’ll let you figure that out, but they eventually issued something like an apology, although I’m still not sure if they were sorry for the scam, or sorry they got caught?
In spite of PIN’s and eight digit passwords (which we’re supposed to change monthly), it seems that no one will guarantee my online, or banking, safety. Ironically, the only person being regularly locked out of my accounts is me.
This was why I liked signing my name instead of punching in a PIN. At the checkout, I’d simply scrawl something resembling the signature on the back of my credit card, while the long lines of impatient shoppers loudly questioned my IQ.
So this week I wrote down all my PIN’s and passcodes, then hid the list in… um, a secret place. A hiding place so cunning that it took Long Suffering Wife nearly ten minutes to find it.
This was slightly longer than it took her to learn how to copy my signature, so we’re definitely headed in the right direction security-wise.