Today, I experienced “Murphy’s Law” firsthand: anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and if you’re worried about something happening, it’s even more likely. Recently, I moved a “sample interval” task on my Kanban to-do list directly into “done” without properly addressing it. As a result, during this afternoon’s testing, the related issue was uncovered—a mistake born of negligence that taught me a harsh lesson.
The day started off relatively smoothly. In the morning, we had a fairly short sprint meeting, and afterward, I continued working on the debugging issue in Visual Studio that I had left unresolved yesterday. Due to .NET version incompatibility, the debugging functionality wasn’t working properly, which had been bothering me all day. Fortunately, I managed to resolve it before noon. However, because I hadn’t controlled the variables well during testing, I’m still unsure which solution actually worked. I wasn’t willing to risk starting over to test again—time is just too precious, and the process too frustrating.
By noon, I had installed some VS plugins and even explored how to batch-install them via the command line. When I checked the time, it was already 1:30 PM, so I quickly grabbed lunch. In the afternoon, I focused on optimizing the device connection logic and made significant changes. Just as I was fully immersed in work, a colleague discovered a critical issue during testing—the very one tied to Murphy’s Law that I mentioned earlier. The overlooked details had finally caught up with me. The problem surfaced at the worst possible time, which was a bit demoralizing. I then spent most of the afternoon troubleshooting, reproducing, and fixing the issue. By the time I finished, it was already past 8 PM, and my planned gym session had to be canceled. On the way home, I did some on-site testing to verify if the problem was truly resolved, only to stumble upon another major issue. Although it was a bit of a headache, I felt somewhat relieved—it was caught early enough. After giving it some thought, I now have a rough idea of how to address it and plan to tackle it tomorrow at work.
In the evening, Xiaoyan supervised Hamer while she did her homework. Toward the later part, Hamer’s focus completely broke down—she was jumping around with Xiaoyan doing exercises, cutting small pieces of paper, and then fiddling with the mini textbooks I had brought back for her. When she only had one page of homework left, Hamer, after washing up, simply declared, “I’m not doing it anymore,” and packed up to go to bed.
Before bed, Xiaoyan and I chatted about some of the troubles she’s been having with her friends. Lately, she’s been receiving a lot of negative energy, which has left her feeling a bit overwhelmed. I listened quietly. Although I couldn’t offer much help, I hoped she felt a bit more at ease and would eventually find her own way to cope. Toward the end of the conversation, Xiaoyan suddenly brought up what happened last night—she asked what I was thinking when Hamer was walking ahead of us by herself. When I told her, “I was annoyed too,” she cut me off with, “Alright, stop talking.” She could sense that what I was about to say wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Even so, we continued the conversation. I explained my perspective and listened to hers. Although she was still a bit unhappy in the end, we managed to get everything out in the open, which was a good thing overall.
