Ah, the joys of
registration. Surely, there is no
greater bliss than this. Surely I must
be kidding.
Now,
registration is normally a stress-filled, annoying time for college
students. However, this year has taken
annoying to new and unprecedented heights.
Of course, the fact that I was trying to register while studying for a
major test, stressing about a massive project, having a birthday, and generally
going more insane than I was already, didn’t help matters either. But let me start at the beginning.
When
first we received the master schedule of doom, I looked at my degree audit and
realized that there were only twenty classes that I still needed to take. Huzzah, I thought. I can escape here in less than six millennia. Realizing that the vast majority of
remaining classes were sciences, I decided that it would be a good idea to take
some of those courses over the summer at my local community college. So, I obtained a course outline from OCC
(the college) and proceeded to figure out what courses might be
applicable. I came up with five
possibilities, so armed with a vague idea of what to do, I set out to get
permission to take those classes.
Now,
faithful longtime Horror Stories readers will recognize the term “jumping
through flaming hoops while juggling trained poodles.” Well, in order to transfer credits, you
don’t have to do this. No, you just
have to juggle flaming poodles. The
process involves finding out who the head of whatever department the
prospective class falls under, finding them at a time when they’re in their
office, getting a nifty little form from the secretary, filling it out,
begging, pleading, and bribing (no, officer, there was no money passed, I
swear) said chairperson to sign off (after showing the above mentioned course catalogue)
that it’s okay to take the course. Then
you get to go find the head of your major’s department, and repeat the above
whining, pleading, and begging to get another signature. And then
the dean of the department has to sign it too.
And then….
Actually,
I don’t know what happens next. I
haven’t gotten that far yet. I still
have one more paper to pick up from the person who signed it, and then I’m sure
to find some more arcane incantations and magic tricks necessary. But this was all before I went home and
actually looked at the courses.
If
you’re going to offer two sequential courses- say, Bio 1 and 2- how much sense
does it make to have both at the same time?
That was definitely what I discovered.
And my philosophy course wanted to be at eight in the morning. I have trouble waking up for interesting
classes, and they want me to think
that early? I don’t th- no, that’s too
easy. And I still have no idea where
the money’s coming from for these.
But
wait, there’s more! If you call right now,
instead of just one set of registration issues, you’ll get two at absolutely no
cost but your sanity! So, William
Paterson decided it wasn’t about to be beat out by a mere community college. Heck no.
So that little ‘go see your advisor’ memo came with my old advisor’s
number on it. Now, I realize that it
takes awhile for a major change to go through, but man, that timing
sucked. But I managed to get my RAN
from her, then realized that I had no idea what courses to take. And of course my new advisor was on
sabbatical. Fortunately, the man is
wonderful, and came in to help with scheduling. So I got a nice schedule worked out- but two of the courses I have
to take were already closed. So, he was
going to sign me into them. But he
couldn’t get his password to work. So
he called a bunch of people, then looked at me and said it would take a few
minutes, but that he would make sure to do it.
Another advisee was in the hall, so I hoped he would remember, and left.
Well,
I don’t know if he forgot, or if the system is just trying to screw me again
(I’m betting on the latter) but when I went to register Tuesday morning, I
couldn’t get into those courses. So I
went to the head of the department- and she wasn’t there. So I signed a six mile long list of names of
people who decided that environmental science is an easy A for their science
requirement (news flash here: it’s no easier than any other science!) and
prayed that I would get put into them, since I only have nine credits
otherwise.
Oh,
and to top all that off, those sciences?
Nine thirty. Please, shoot me.
So,
that’s about it. I think I may have won
the worst registration yet award. If
yours was worse- well, I’m selling chocolate, and chocolate makes everything
better! Just come up to the office and
ask for Diversity.