It's A Dividing Issue

The perfect visual representation of calculus trauma progression! First, you're learning basic alphabet variables (K, L, M, N) - no big deal. Then suddenly you're hit with single derivatives (s, p, d, f) and you're like "okay, I can handle this." But then BAM! Partial derivatives and second-order differential equations come crashing down like an avalanche of mathematical horror. That face in the third panel is the exact moment your brain realizes you'll be solving dx²-y² at 2AM while questioning your life choices. Differential equations don't just break your calculator—they break your spirit!

Mathematicians: "Let's spend centuries developing graph theory to prove this bridge problem is impossible." History: "Hold my beer." The Königsberg bridge problem was elegantly solved by Euler in 1736 when he proved it mathematically impossible to cross all seven bridges exactly once. Then WWII bombing raids provided the ultimate peer review by removing the city (and bridges) from existence. Talk about destructive testing! This is why mathematicians should stick to theorems - they last longer than actual cities.

That integral is the mathematical equivalent of being asked to defuse a bomb with a spork. Nobody actually solves these by hand—we just stare at it until the deadline approaches, then type it into Wolfram Alpha and pretend we knew the answer all along. Even professors secretly struggle with these monstrosities. They just assign them because misery loves company and tenure means never having to say "I can't solve this either."

That GLORIOUS moment when your brain finally clicks and conquers that impossible problem! After staring at the same equation for what feels like centuries, you suddenly transform from confused student to MATHEMATICAL SUPERHERO! The heavens open, triumphant music plays, and you're ready to accept your Nobel Prize for solving question 2b from your homework. Never mind that it's 3AM and your roommate is begging you to stop screaming "EUREKA!" at the top of your lungs!

The engineering student's journey through mathematical hell is brutally captured in three acts. Starting with a wistful "Dear dairy..." at sunrise, followed by late-night studying with "I miss the time..." (and energy drinks, naturally), culminating in the mathematical nightmare below. Those equations aren't just complex—they're existential crisis material! The progression from hopeful journaling to "when maths didn't look like it just came outta my asshole" perfectly encapsulates the descent from optimism to mathematical trauma. The paper covered in physics equations and that yellow mechanical pencil might as well be torture devices. Engineering students don't solve problems—they survive them.

The 16-step journey of solving a physics problem is painfully accurate. From the initial optimism of writing equations to the emotional rollercoaster of getting multiple wrong answers, finding algebra errors (2-3=5... seriously?), and finally reaching enlightenment after wasting four hours. The progression from frustration to despair to eventual triumph captures the essence of physics homework. That moment when you realize the problem has six more parts? Pure academic trauma. No wonder physicists have that thousand-yard stare—they've seen things... mathematical things.