Studless in Suburbia

Studless in Suburbia: A Simulation Glitch Story

There I was, armed with a level, a towel rack, and the kind of optimism only a homeowner can muster. I measured. I eyeballed. I tapped the wall like a polite ghost hunter. Then I started driving nails—one every inch like I was laying track for the Transcontinental Railroad. Nothing. No stud. Just drywall, air, and the faint sound of the simulation laughing at me.

I paused. Took a breath. Whispered sweet threats to the wall. Then, in a moment of pure rage and drywall-based betrayal, I punched it.

Boom. Stud. My knuckles found it instantly. Not a millimeter off. I didn’t even aim. It’s like the simulation said, “Oh, you wanted structural integrity? You should’ve led with violence.”

Fast forward to me installing a new light fixture. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by studs. Studs behind the switch. Studs behind the junction box. Studs behind my dreams. I’m basically in a lumber yard. Where were these guys when I needed to hang a $12 towel rack?

So yes, I live in a house held together by air, spite, and simulation logic. The studs only appear when I’m emotionally compromised or holding electrical wire. I don’t know who’s coding this reality, but they are definitely laughing in the background.