So, at least for me locally, the blizzard turned out to be significantly less terrible than it could have been; a last-minute shifting of the low pressure and very slightly elevated temperatures cut the snowfall to less than half of what was predicted just 12 hours ago. I still have to dig out, though.
And despite the day ending up less terrible than it could have been, I woke to a notification from my backup service (VaultPress are legit great, y’all) that they’d been unable to contact Fleen overnight. The site was down for at least six hours, and I spent the morning trying to get the hosting company (no names … yet) to take my damn outage report.
They couldn’t take the report without a Support Code, which required logging in. For whatever reason, my login/password weren’t working, and the reset page wasn’t sending the promised email. Ninety minutes later the reset email showed up, but when I clicked the link, it informed me the reset key was invalid and to either try again, or send an email.
I chose the email on the support page, the one that says they’ll respond to emails and open tickets 24/7, only to get a response that they don’t actually do support off of emails. Fine, back to the live chat system, where the world’s slowest typist took 17 minutes to ask if I wanted him to reset my password. Which he then refused to do because I’m not the primary account holder¹. I tried to send an email to a different account (one listed in the nonfunctioning password reset email I’d received), only to get an immediate delivery failure because the account apparently doesn’t exist.
To sum: no phone number to call, no way to email anybody, and the live chat people are typing with one finger up their nostril and one thumb up their ass. Somewhere in the middle of all that, Fleen came back on its own, and I feel like it’s time to get ‘hold of some folks in billing and ask exactly why I’m paying for this².
Which is why I have no idea what’s going on in webcomics today. How are you?
Spam of the day:
Also, I accidentally deleted my hand-curated list of spam emails to write about. Apparently young, hot, wet, willing Russian sluts aren’t interested in me any longer.
¹ Obligatory disclaimer that Jon Rosenberg hosts Fleen and also bought my soul for a dollar. Thanks, Jon!
² Or, more precisely, why Jon is. Thanks, Jon!