My computer monitor is littered with Sticky Notes.
No. Not the inferior physical kind with the glue that falls off eventually and doesn’t support copy & paste. The digital kind. My desktop is an ancient breeding ground of virtual sticky notes. They contain phone numbers (often obsolete), addresses (often in other states), passwords, book recommendations, lists of names of people who want prints, To-Do Lists (again, usually out of date), notes on how much money I’ve made, by month, for several years, copies of neat quotes or IM conversations containing some bit of data that was vital six months ago, and random snippets of somewhat baffling content.
If anyone ever wants to steal my identity so they can run up my credit card, they can proceed by the usual channels. But if anyone ever wants to steal my identity, take over my body, and proceed to live my life, in addition to a moderate level of art skills and memorizing a lot of family history and trivia about Star Trek/Dragonlance/every other geeky thing I’ve been interested it at any point since middle school and still retain in memory to this day, they’re going to have to break the Code of the Sticky.
Otherwise it’ll be a short-lived and frustrating deception.
Some things even I don’t know, or have forgotten. For example, what is this long teal one? It has a few useful passwords at the top, but then it turns into this:
There must have been a point to that. Was I naming fairies? Cooking up the next cheese flavor sensation? It’s been there for years. What does it all mean? What was I thinking about?!
Of such small mysteries are mornings made…