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.