There has got to be a better way to do this

There has got to be a better way to do this ...[whatever]. I mean, if it's not bad enough that I've done it once and forgotten how to do it, I now need to do it again, which requires a whole new bout of remembering. Everything, it seems, demands some fresh hell of mental tasking, casting about for the gauzy remainders of whatever it was I knew the last time I managed to get the damn thing done. One might imagine that the act of repetition would reshape those elusive, but necessary, mundanities into a firmer cognitive agility, but even my most confident attempts are thwarted. It does seem as if the most simple tasks are made difficult, Always, by the simplest things: a login, apparently expired. A password, apparently forgotten. A field on a page, inexplicably not functioning. A stupifying wait for an unhelpful call-centre operator. A thing, misplaced. It might pass as disorganisation or personal ineffectiveness to unkind observers, or those who are not acquainted with my intellectual capabilities. Those who know me know otherwise. It is not insurmountable, but it is tiresome, and tiring. 

(Just between you and me, I suspect a handicap, rather than a disability).