Mickey walked into work today, and I saw right away that he was in tremendous pain. He looked at me with grief stricken eyes.

“Awww, come here.” I went and put my arms around him. No longer able to contain his emotions, he held me tightly and broke down crying.

“There, there, everything’s gonna be ok. Don’t you worry now.”

“…..why????” He said between sobs. “WHY????”

“It’s ok, everything’s gonna be ok.” I hummed a gentle lullaby to calm him down. “Doo doo dooo doooooo dooo…..”

So why was Mickey in such awful pain? Because, dear readers, my coworker… is a New York Mets fan.

Had a bad dream last night.

I dreamt of having a chance encounter with the very comely Mary Katharine Ham, the conservative journalist and blogger from Townhall.com. We were inside the lobby of a museum, and I somehow managed to engage her in a conversation. Only problem was, I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. My hearing aids completely failed to pick up her speech patterns, so I was left there to helpessly either nod while she talked or give blank stares. She quickly lost interest and blew me off, thinking I was a retard. All I could do was watch while she walked away, knowing I’d never be able to convince her otherwise.

Man was I depressed when I woke up. I think it’s obvious that the new hearing aids I’m trying out has been causing a lot of grief and anxiety for me. I want to hear better so I can engage people in conversation and not be afraid of putting myself out there so I could meet new people and escape this solitary bubble I’ve built for myself. But so far the aids just aren’t living up to expectations. I’m hoping programming adjustments will fix it, but I’ll have to wait till my next appointment before I’ll know for sure.

That dream reflected my worst fears too. People have a tendency to form opinions about me based purely on my disability, and if I can’t communicate with people normally, or have trouble understanding them, it’s automatically presumed that I’m either mentally underdeveloped, or to put it quite bluntly, that I’m just a flipping idiot with the equivalent IQ of a cardboard box. Nothing I say about anything will have any merit. I’m talked down to like I’m 7 years old, and there are times when I’m treated like one too.

Normally I wouldn’t care. But what scares me is the thought that no matter how many single women I meet, they will all look at me the same way because of my hearing loss: like I’m a retard. A handicapped piece of trash unworthy of their attention, much less their love. Whether it’s in dreams or in real life, it’s always been something that weighed heavily on my mind. I fear I’ll never live up to expectations, that I can never be the “perfect guy” they’re looking for, and for that I’ll always continue to be passed over until I’m well into my 70s, living alone in some dinky apartment somewhere with only a few dogs and cats to keep me company.

I can understand why some people settle now. Why they give up all hope and just hitch on to the first person who comes along that pays any kind of attention to them, even if that person ends up being the next Son of Sam. Will that be my future as well?

Crap, I gotta get these hearing aids fixed.

I’m serious, the government needs to declare all of Microsoft a terrorist group, because quite frankly they are more of a threat to mankind than Al Qaeda is right now.

I was polishing up up my blog when I happened to noticed the colors I changed for a particular table wouldn’t take for some reason in Microsoft’s newest bundle of pure joy, IE7. No matter, since it didn’t affect the layout or anything… but then I glanced down and also happened to notice this HUGE horizontal bar on the bottom scrolling out for maybe half a mile before it ended. Oh no. No no no no…..

It wasn’t showing up in Firefox or IE6, so I knew this was an issue relating to IE7. Just beautiful. Worse yet, as I surfed around my blog using IE7, I noticed a few other things were breaking as well. Why, oh why, did I harbor the hope that maybe, just ONCE, IE7 would somehow prove not to be yet another disastrous release that would cause web designers everywhere to curse and spit at any and all things relating to Microsoft? I had thought IE7 would be just enough of an improvement over IE6 (which itself gave me endless hours of grief) that I wouldn’t have to pay it any mind when coding my blog.

Nope nope nope. IE7 promptly decided to treat my blog like a public restroom, hosing everything down in its path, but in just clever enough a manner that I wouldn’t notice it right away. And now because of those nice folks in Seattle who curiously enough also liked to worship Satan in their spare time, I had to deal with this mile long horizontal bar that was apparently stretched out to cover some 4th dimensional object residing on my blog, seemingly invisible to the naked eye.

So, with the clock striking midnight, I resolved to work this through until I figured out what was causing the problem. What would follow would be a series of deleting/adding code, uploading the modified file, refreshing my page, checking the results, then rinse, wash and repeat. I continued on this neverending cycle until 4AM, when I finally tossed in the towel and crashed on my bed, muttering curses at Microsoft, then sleeping and dreaming that I was muttering curses at Microsoft. I finally woke up around 11AM, somewhat refreshed and ready to pick up where I left off.

After another hour or so of googling for answers, uploading code and swearing yet another blue streak at Microsoft, I finally found an answer. The reason my horizontal bar spanned on to infinity was because the numbers I used to list comments in numerical order were in…. italics.

That’s it. No other reason. Because my comment numbers were in italics, IE7 in its unending wisdom decided it needed to create a horizontal bar that could be wrapped around the earth three times because somehow, that just makes it all better.

I hate those Microsoft coders. I hate them. I hate their mothers, I hate their wives, I hate their children, I hate their pets, I HATE THEM. There are not enough fleas in this universe to infest the armpits of those hacking terrorists to my liking. I long await the day when the earth will open up and swallow the entire Microsoft campus whole, while angels in heaven sing and rejoice over the destruction of the greatest evil the world has ever known, at least ever since the invention of disco.

But in the meantime, I must continue to fight off these demons from infesting my blog, and lend my hand in some small way to assist those who have also been afflicted by this plague of mankind. So here it is: I noticed this problem also occured in those running Wordpress blogs using the Tiga theme. If this describes you, check an individual page where at least one comment has been made (in IE7 of course) to see if you get the horizontal bar as well. To fix, simply change the font style in the class “comment-num” to something other than italic, OR add the line “overflow: hidden” to the class comment header in your Tiga stylesheet. That should resolve the problem.

Fortunately, the other IE7 related issues were easily solvable, and I managed to clean them up just in time to see the sun set in the sky, yet another day stolen from me because of those evil snotbags in Seattle. *Sigh*

I think it’s obvious web design is definitely not for me. I had to do all this with only a rudimentary understanding of CSS, PHP and XHTML, and things have gotten a wee bit more complicated since I built my first webpage back in ‘97. Ahhhh the good old days, where you could throw some text up, wrap them in a font tag and low and behold, you had a webpage comparable to Yahoo. Now it can suck up all my time just to figure out what relative and absolute positioning means, and why it’s making my blog look like a pile of moose droppings. I can either spend all my time building and maintaining a blog, or I can spend it blogging for real, but I surely can’t do both. I think the time will eventually come when the technology will be so far over my head that I’ll have no choice but to use a service like Typepad just to avoid the chores and anguish of building and maintaining my own blog. It’s kind of sad, but what can I do. I don’t intend to go down without a fight though, so while I can still dance, I say, bring on the NOISE.

Lies, betrayal, and deceit at long last put the final nail in the coffin of my law school dreams.

Well I wanted an answer, and after 18 months I finally got it in spades. When it happened, my anger once again reared its ugly head as I began to shake my fist at God for all the grief He’s allowed me to endure, but afterwards I began to resign myself to my fate. In a way I’m glad it’s over. While I may be destined to drift through life with no sense of purpose or meaning, I was at least relieved of the trauma 3-4 years of law school would almost certainly have brought me.

But after taking communion and reflecting on the events of the past week, I was directed to read Psalms 73 and Psalms 92, verses that talk about God taking vengeance on our enemies. So maybe this isn’t quite over just yet.

In any event, I wonder why I had to enter my thirties still without any clue as to what career might best suit me. I grew up falling in love with the notion of solving mysteries and clearing cases, and because of it I always thought law enforcement was where I belonged. For whatever reason I loved the idea of justice, of being the guy who could help put right where people did wrong. The shows I watched and the books I read all fed my passion of uncovering hidden truths, exposing lies, solving crimes, and of course, catching the bad guys.

I started college with my heart set on what I thought was the right profession. I had dreams, aspirations, and eagerly looked forward to a promising future in the career of my choosing. I saw myself being well established in the profession by the time I turned 30, married to the love of my life, and perhaps even a father to several wonderful children.

Instead, graduation from college would see me become unemployed for almost 2 years, then evicted illegally onto the streets, and finally trapped in a dead end job as a no name clerk. At 30 years of age, I had accomplished nothing. I was a failure. I was nothing more than a vagabond with a job, a helpless prey to my enemies.

It was evident that only God could salvage the mess that I had made of my life. And it is what I hope for, in spite of all the fist shaking.

Maybe.

18 months of soul searching, seeking, knocking, begging for clear direction, begging for signs, begging for ANYTHING that might give me an indication that I wasn’t making the mistake of my life by signing up for law school, and now here I am… one day before the deadline, STILL without an answer.

I spoke to my supervisor about my intentions and how keeping night pay would be a necessity for me even if I switched to a day shift. One of my co-workers was still getting it even though he now works days, so I knew it wasn’t impossible, and if they rejected it in my case while he continues to collect night pay, it would clearly show favoritism, and they know I’d raise hell about it. After my boss spoke to his boss, he came back to me and said I would need to come up with a plan and a new schedule that would still keep everyone happy, and if I could I do that, maybe I’ll be able to keep my night pay as well.

I looked at him like he had gone mad and thought, “Isn’t that supposed to be YOUR job??” I couldn’t believe his response to my request had been to simply pass the buck to me.

So I went to my union rep, who told me she would call another union rep, who as luck would have it, was out with a broken ankle and wouldn’t be back for some time. After I kept emailing her, she sent me a testy response basically indicating that I was on my own.

I didn’t know what to do. Why couldn’t I get any straight answers from anyone? Why couldn’t I just have been told, “No, you can’t do it!” and then I could finally move on with my life? Why did I even have to be accepted to law school in the first place, and thus avoid all this grief?

I was now saddled with the burden of coming up with a new work schedule to accommodate 5 people, while also having to ensure that their work schedules would stay intact with as little change as possible. I also had to deal with one erratic co-worker who I knew could not be trusted to adhere to any schedule I propose, even if she might initially agree to it.

What a mess. With a broken and heavy heart, I called my coworkers together and explained the situation. We talked about it for a while without really resolving anything, and then I went to work on diagramming our complete work schedule to see how I could possibly fill in the gaps.

Some how, some way, I saw a possible solution that involved my coworker Mickey coming in a little later than usual on Mondays and Fridays to cover, which he agreed to. I put together the new proposed schedule with a letter, and left it on the desk for my boss to go over tomorrow, which of course is also the same day as the deadline to make my deposit.

And I know what will happen too. Nothing will get resolved, the issue of whether I’ll be able to keep night pay will still be in limbo, and if I make a deposit after the deadline expires, I’ll only be able to secure a seat if someone else withdraws and my name comes up next on the waiting list. I could easily be waiting all summer long before I’ll know anything for certain.

I’m beginning to understand now why so many Christians simply can’t wait around for an answer regarding these kinds of life changing decisions. Who could do this really? Who could be willing to wait and wait and wait while life passes you by and all of heaven seems to be as brass? Some people just do whatever the heck they want and assume whatever path they choose is automatically God’s will, yet without consulting with Him, or seeking His direction, or waiting to give Him a chance to guide them. And sometimes they’ll get blessed anyway, in which case they become even more obnoxious and convinced that because they prospered, they have been operating within God’s will all along. It’s a form of pragmatism that never did sit right with me.

I always thought it noble that I defer to God’s own desire for my life, and allow Him to guide me where He wanted me to go, instead of just simply doing my own thing. But I NEVER expected that this would have been the price I’d have to pay for clinging on to that belief, losing so much time and experiencing so much agony just in waiting for an answer that may in fact, never come. It angers and depresses me that this how I am rewarded for having what I thought were the noblest of intentions. I wasn’t arrogant in pursuing my own path. I wanted the Lord to lead me, to choose a career for me, since I felt He of all people of course would know where I’d be able to make the most difference, where I could do something worthwhile and meaningful. Instead, I’ve been left to drift endlessly, mourning wasted years and feeling abandoned by a Father who had promised He would never abandon me.

What kind of testimony can I possibly give now to the world? My very life up to this point indicates that it is unprofitable to wait on the Lord for much needed answers. We can but only direct our own life without His input or His guidance. We are in a way orphans, left to fend for ourselves, tossed to and fro by the storms of life, without hope of ever seeing calmer waters.

And yet, in spite of it all though, somewhere deep down inside of me, my soul is still clinging on to hope… praying that the stormy chaos of today will give way to a peaceful, joyful calm in the morning.

So let us see what the morning will bring.