Jesse used this phrase yesterday in Game Design class, and it just stuck.

He was talking about some kind of project he worked on for the Mouse, I think. He is wont to do that, after all.

I bet there's quite a bit in my life that boils down to non-problems that seem too totally complex to solve.

And I'd be willing to bet that some of my readers have a few ideas about a few examples of such things.

(Yes, I know that you know that I know that you're reading, and vice-versa. Yeah.)

******

The biggest such example is, of course, the Brenda Issue.

My friends tell me that I looked miserable yesterday, and that's because I was, after dealing with her for a 2-hour meeting. She continues to place all of the blame for things on my shoulders.

For example: our user tests went poorly because the models I was given - which were late to begin with - were broken. I had asked for standardized models to be turned into me by Wednesday, and didn't get them until Thursday, and those I did get didn't animate properly.

Therefore, we had 2 working models (really, only 1) and the selection interface, which was what I had wanted to test in the first place, had to be shelved.

But of course, it's always why *I* didn't forsee these problems before. Never asking anyone else in the group. Why didn't I forsee that the artists would have broken their models? Because I'm not Miss Cleo. Why didn't I know I needed standardized models before? Because the previous set of models I got didn't animate properly either, and so I couldn't test the effect of scaling non-standard puppets in the world.

Ew. Technical paragraph. Sorry.

So my mind races to find a way out, and the psychogical pressure she's putting on me is just too much. It's like she's looking over my shoulder all of the time - but at the same time not paying attention enough to know what I'm doing.

If I were still seeing my psychiatrist, he'd probably tell me to ignore her.

If there were any simple way to get through this, I suppose it would be to ignore her. But I can't ignore her, because she holds my grade in her hands, and furthermore, I don't want her to get away with this behavior. I have good friends coming to the program next year, and even if I do become a permanent resident of SimLand, I don't want my friends to suffer the same fate.

******

I'm wearing a dress today.

Yes, a dress. And sandals.

It's the same dress I wore to Disneyland in January.

Ah, happier times.

******

As if project hell wasn't enough, I stayed home this morning to get a package from UPS, since they NEVER just leave it at the doorstep, the bitches.

I stayed home all morning, and then when I went online at 1:30 to check what was going on, it said: "12:59 - Receiver not available, 2nd attempt."

Ummmm....I was HOME. ALL MORNING. I got no buzzer. I got no note saying "We attempted to deliver your package." Nothing nothing nothing.

Sooner or later I'm just going to throw a full-blown six-year-old temper tantrum.

And I wasn't about to sit home for another day waiting for a package, especially when there was apparently no guarantee I'd get it if I was home.

So I called Customer Service. The guy told me the service center would call me within the hour to work something out. So I waited. An hour and a half later, I called again. This time, I lodged a formal complaint, and lo and behold, they called. At this point, it's 3:30 PM. They asked if I could meet the driver at some random ass street corner to pick up the package. Tired of dealing with them, I angrily walked out and met the guy and got my goddamned package.

Why must everything be so difficult?

Now I have my package. It had angry music in it - Linkin Park - and crazy techno celtic rock music - Evanescence. It also had Pokemon DVDs in it.

Basically, a care package to myself.

Because if I don't care about my emotional well-being, who will?

******

This summer might be an epiphany for Hunter and I.

We'll be in California. We'll be living together. We'll be working at a video game company.

And when we come home, we're home. No homework. No crying and complaining about bitchy project advisors or politics or failed auditions or annoying undergraduates. (Or dim-witted little boys, or hungry little girls...)

We might actually get a chance to be ourselves.

And...well, that might just be a simple solution to a complex problem.