It has become irrevocably clear to me now that registration is almost certainly the single worst thing to happen to this University since that time Morty went to Florida for a weekend.
You see, every quarter I begin with an idealist's mind, eyes swimming with the promise of a new tomorrow. I convince myself that this quarter will be different. I assemble a schedule flush with classes I have an interest in and that fit my graduation requirements. I find only the most glowing CTECs and devise intricate schemes to ensure I never have to wake before noon or go to class on Fridays.
Quickly and tragically, these best laid plans of CAESAR and men fall by the wayside. I throw out my dreams of sleep and three-day weekends with a pang of grief, but I soldier on. As class after class fills up weeks before my registration time, I find myself pitifully revoking my prayers for those rare classes in the "five and above" category of CTECs. I begin to hate myself as I force my hand to click "add to cart" on classes with anemic CTECs hovering in the twos.
Finally, lips trembling and hands shaking, I find myself reduced to searching for any class — no matter how painful — that will check a box on my graduation list.
Why, I ask, has my Registrar's Office forsaken me? I pitifully discard my last semblance of self-respect and click enroll. And I resist the urge to download the University of Illinois transfer application.
- Tom Meyer
Daily Northwestern Reporter
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