In the good old days the only people who used passwords were the KGB and those seeking entry to illegal after-hours gambling dens.

Now we live in a world of passwords, and are expected to remember all of them.

When I go to work, the first thing I do is log on to my computer, for which I must recall my password. This may seem a simple concept, but it isn’t. The password isn’t just a word, it has to contain a certain number of letters, some lower case, some upper, and one or two numbers on top of that.

I find this combination impossible to remember – the only way to do so is to write it down in large print and stick it to my screen, which defeats the object of the exercise.

To make matters worse, every few weeks this password has to be changed and a new combination of letters and numbers concocted. I’m convinced that each time this happens, another part of my brain disintegrates.

Managing my finances also involves a password, to access my bank account. At least it did, but I forgot the word so often, and the process of finding it out again was so complex, I abandoned it and returned to the relatively stress-free system of monthly statements through the post.

I have a password for my e-mail account, another for ordering books from Amazon, another for my internet access, one for a clothing catalogue and another for the phone bill.

How is any human being supposed to remember all these? I’m envious of Cold War spies who sat on park benches exchanging briefcases, and only needed to remember one simple word. Had they been required to spout some ridiculous combination of words and numbers, they’d have downed tools en masse.

In the early days of telephone banking, someone would ask for your mother’s maiden name as a security check. Now you’ve got to have a 15-digit password containing a Latin verb, seven prime numbers and the name of a Sudanese village.

I hate to be one of those people who looks at the old days through rose-coloured glasses, but really, things were easier and far less stressful when we weren’t drowning in a sea of passwords.

I realise there is a need for security, and I wouldn’t want my bank details available for the world to see (although seeing how little it contained would deter anyone from identity theft), but there must be a way that doesn’t involve using more passwords than the Secret Service.

‘Forgotten your password?’ my computer always asks. Surely it is clever enough to know by now that the answer is ‘yes’.