Likely Normal

Sometimes when I’m sitting there trying to come up with the answer to a security question, I get that awkward realization that the person I was years ago is basically a stranger at this point. What were you into in 1997? Was it pizza? Was it really pizza, or is that just the default answer because, well, pizza is the ultimate food? It’s like our past selves have become these identity thieves, stealing details we can’t even remember anymore.

Security questions are the digital equivalent of your past self whispering “Hey, remember that inside joke you made up in 2008? Well, guess what? It’s your passport to the Internet now.” You stare at the screen: “What was your favorite food in 2005?” Was it pizza? Probably. Was it “the blood of my enemies”? Equally likely. You’ve spent years carefully crafting strong passwords, only to be foiled by younger you’s commitment to chaos. “Haha, let’s set ‘mother’s maiden name’ to ‘DragonSlayer42’—future me will love this!”

Spoiler: Future you does not love this.

It’s like your past identity is haunting you. “Oh, you’ve changed? Grown? Evolved? Too bad. What was your first pet’s name? Was it actually Sir Barksalot or were you being funny?