Of all the events that occurred this week, one takes the cake by far. At my work, I've been spearheading the network cutover for a fire district in the north part of that county. On Thursday, I even setup a temporary station of theirs practically singlehandedly (minus terminating some CAT6 cabling). Keep in mind, while I've been both going to college for and enjoying personal hobbies in this subject for a few years now, I've only had an IT "career" for 10 months. So, naturally, I felt pretty awesome about discovering I had the knowledge and experience to accomplish all I had done. Indeed, I felt pretty good about myself.
And then Friday happened. Sweet, sweet Friday. In trying to migrate their mail server from an on-premise host to the cloud, I was encountering some slight difficulties. In trying to troubleshoot, I considered perhaps part of my issue had to do with some certificates that appeared to be expired. And then, in a move so ridiculous (and for the life of me, I still can't even remotely understanding what led me to the reasoning in my mind), I deleted the certificates. Keep in mind, this setup was one put in place by their last IT guy, not us. And, as you might guess, instantly, the mail server stopped working, and, as the saying goes, **** hit the fan.
I made this error close to the end of my shift at the office, and I spent hours and hours trying to correct it. At length, I got them to the point where their emails could be sent, though not received. And after 12:30 in the morning, running only on the Korean food I had for lunch, a few Hershey's Kisses, and a 32oz bottle of strawberry crystal light, I was left at the point I had to call it. It was only in the morning on Saturday when my manager was able to correct my error.
In sharing this experience, I do so because it reminded me of a few things. One of those things, naturally, is humility, but that goes without saying. Moreover, one important lesson it taught me was that it only takes one foolish decision (and one made in a moment of quick impulse) to undo so much progress. It's a tragedy that we as people have such power in our hands to create paintings, write novels, build pyramids- and yet, sometimes, all it takes is one foolish moved of one impulsive act from one foolhardy person- and the creation is undone in a matter of seconds.
But if you'll pardon me for getting a little personal, this experience reached deeper for me. It brought me to a darkness in my mind that began to torment me body and soul. As I was thinking, waiting and trying a number of things to fix the problem I created, even well into the late hours, I constantly had to step back, remind myself to breath, and calm myself. I could never do a very good job of this, but I managed to keep myself functional and focused on fighting my way back up the hill I threw myself down. But even as I maintained my ability to keep on trying, I felt such an inner pain, and kept rebuking myself for having done such a foolish and stupid thing. The worst part was that I knew I had done just that.
It was in these moments, (and I've experience a similar thing in other times of my life), when I remembered something you probably wouldn't see coming: a game. Now, full disclosure, if you haven't played (or watched a good playthrough of) The Crooked Man, I will do my best to not spoil anything. This game is a very simple Indie horror game, but don't be deceived. What lies beneath the simplistic sprites and lo-res graphics holds very strong and important messages. I'll be the first to admit, it's a dark matter this game covers, but trust me when I say it covers it very well. I'll also be the first to admit, it's not perfect, and suffers from a very occasional cliche trope or nonsensical outcome to a choice, but aside from the classic gameplay cliche of "key hunting", these are not common.
To make a long story short, the a character in this game asks a very poignant question (again, doing my best not to spoil anything). In remembering the old nursery rhyme "The Crooked Man", he recognizes a parallel to his own life, and asks why it seems all he ever has are crooked things, in a crooked house, and why his whole life seem to only ever be allotted to a fate of crookedness. It's a thought-provoking question, isn't it? I, for one, in my despairing moments, asked this same question, both pitying my circumstances, and pitying myself for feeling like I deserved to even ask that question. Friday night/Saturday morning was no exception to this.
Perhaps I can offer no one answer to that question that could sufficiently reach out to everyone who has ever asked it. But, I can only say, perhaps a crooked house isn't all so bad. For one thing, it is a house, is it not? Start from the ground up, and work outward from there. Again, I really can't emphasize it enough; it's an older game by now, and yes, if you don't like the "horror" genre, it's a little creepy. For what it's worth, the scariness, so to speak, is contained mainly to the atmosphere, and to the main antagonist, or monster- I promise the ending is worth it. Play or watch someone play The Crooked Man as you have time, and see if you (or someone else you may know) perhaps draws some parallels. And look closely for some subliminal clues and messages in the dialogue and notes throughout the game.
Alright, enough ranting about the game. Suffice to say, I endured the darkness in my mind and am feeling gradually better, now. And I would be highly ungrateful if I did not give a big shoutout to my wife who helped me through it- for those who know her (and for those who don't), she is an angel. I hope all out there enjoy this week; also, here's a beautiful song to listen to if you might feel down.