Rest In Publications

Nothing says "engineering student" quite like the thousand-yard stare that comes after realizing your 17-page calculation has a mistake on page 2. That moment when your bridge design suddenly becomes a diving board. The desperate "Back to formula?" question isn't just a plea—it's the engineering equivalent of finding out your parachute was actually packed by someone who failed knot-tying class. The true engineering experience isn't building cool stuff; it's questioning your life choices at 4 AM while surrounded by crumpled paper and broken dreams.

The scientific struggle is real! When you're frantically clicking your pen during an exam, you're not just having a nervous breakdown—you're accidentally broadcasting in Morse code to the one cryptography enthusiast in class. That rhythmic clicking translates to actual dots and dashes, potentially spelling out nonsensical messages like "invade Cuba" instead of helping you remember the Krebs cycle. It's the unintentional quantum entanglement of test anxiety and international diplomacy! Next time your pen becomes a telegraph machine, remember: the NSA recruitment team might be sitting two rows behind you.

Welcome to the idealized world of physics problems, where bears perform perfect parabolic motion across canyons. In reality, that bear would've faceplanted halfway through. Nothing says "theoretical physics" quite like pretending the universe isn't constantly trying to slow everything down. Those perfect sine waves of motion exist only in the pristine environment of our textbooks and the dreams of first-year physics students who haven't yet been crushed by reality. The real world is just sitting there, friction and all, waiting to disappoint you.

Scientists saw the Greek alphabet just sitting there, minding its own business, and went "Free real estate!" From alpha particles to beta decay, delta variables to sigma bonds—we've hijacked every squiggly symbol possible. First-year physics students think they're signing up to learn about the universe, but surprise! It's actually a crash course in ancient Greek typography. Nothing says "I'm making this equation unnecessarily complicated" like throwing in a random φ when a perfectly good 'f' was available. The ultimate power move of academia: making undergrads learn a dead language just to calculate how fast a ball rolls down a hill.

The perfect encapsulation of modern education's time paradox. Students simultaneously complain that professors are moving too quickly through material while watching those same lectures at double speed later. Nothing quite captures the delicious irony of academic life like mixing contradictory learning strategies into one cup of cognitive dissonance. The real lesson here? Time is relative—especially when you're cramming for finals at 3 AM with your finger hovering over both buttons.

The classic "I'm an engineer" flex falls spectacularly flat when challenged! Our confident "engenieer" (spelling error included free of charge) gets called out to name 10 formulas and can only muster Newton's Second Law (F = ma). The crushing realization that knowing one formula doesn't make you Nikola Tesla is peak engineering student energy. Even funnier is her admission "that's on me, I set the bar too low" - because honestly, expecting an engineer to remember more than F=ma after finals week is apparently unreasonable.