Looking for the light switch

The roller I was supposed to work on has been dispensed with, for the most part, and owing to an over-abundance of free time, I have turned my attention towards dilettantish attempts at resolving fundamental inconsistencies in fluid mechanics- or at least, to seek a compromise as only an inexperienced, intuition deprived tyro can.

This post is not about these inconsistencies.

Instead, I intend to remember what two weeks of intense brainstorming and (slight) sleep deprivation (read: work) felt like, and will attempt a vivid, voluble description/recollection of this period of time here.

Working on an unsolved problem that is so deceptively simple in its statement that it conjures an image of a jigsaw puzzle with a pivotal element missing seemed like an award in itself- but as I soon discovered, things change when you stoop down to the equations and get your hands dirty. (If you must know, it's #3 here.)
To put it simply, it feels like groping in the dark, looking for a light switch, and bumping into walls, table edges and bed posts every now and then. You never quite know if what you're doing is leading somewhere, or whether you will be starting over in a short while. Intuition fails miserably, and you realize the jigsaw puzzle is missing its defining piece- I've lost count of the number of times I recalled Thomas Kuhn's words- and the number of times I've vowed to read through his magnum opus again.

Collaboration, I realized, is good. Five heads are better than one, as long as they're all thinking along different lines. It also becomes evident why much of today's science rests heavily on collaboration; deplorable one-upmanship and egoistic concerns lose all meaning in the face of the problem at hand.
I really couldn't care less about who solves the problem- that the problem is resolved will imply a small, but firm step ahead in our understanding of nature- an understanding that I will share- no matter who stumbles upon the missing piece. (It is with this reassurance that I go back to my banal, platitudinous life at college.)

This post will, in all likelihood, appear to have made a mountain of a proverbial molehill once the issue is resolved, (quite obviously, not by me!) but with Kuhn's words ringing in my ears, that's a chance I'm willing to take. It is unlikely, perhaps impossible, that I will look any sillier than I already do.

So what is it like figuring out the Galilean invariance of Momentum Transport Equations?
Two parts enervating, two parts humbling, and one part inspiring, but mostly scary. If this is what fundamental research feels like, though, sign me up any day. I'm game.