Once upon a time, when Trapper Keepers were our Palm Pilots du jour and Care Bear lunch-boxes were as common as Kate Spade, school scheduling was as seamless and simple as a Body by Victoria. My, oh my, how things have changed. And although finger-painting follies in first grade cannot compare to the conundrums of college courses, in light of a recent unforeseeable coup de classes, it”s safe to say that my school day was smoother when my Mom still packed my lunch.
Perhaps my glass was overflowing with optimism when I assumed my days of panhandling professors for credit donations had ended 2 years ago along with my lease in Betsey Barbour. (Insert an “Oops!” here.) Unless you happen to be majoring in Wait Lists these days, chances are that if you are anything like me, your current semester schedule is about as ideal as a pimple on prom night. Chock full of double-booked time slots and enrollment uncertainties, my Week-at-a-Glance is as well-balanced as a fat-suit wearing Gwyneth Paltrow on a tightrope. You know you”re in bad shape when the Jackson 5 have planned their reunion, and you still don”t know what next Tuesday will look like. Frankly my dears, it”s a pain in the class.
Up way before the roosters and back at my door long after the cows have come home, my Indiana Jones-esque quest for open seats has led me to lectures ranging from French Wit (yes, the French can be funny) to Foreign News Coverage, as Lady Luck continues playing hard to get. “As the 28th student on the waiting list, Miss Keller, you are the Weakest Link. Good-bye!” (Rumor has it that the next installment in the Survivor series is scheduled to take place in the Frieze Building, most likely in the Communications Department.)
One may assume that poor planning and procrastination placed me into this tumult of time schedules. But you know what they say about assuming, don”t. As LS&A luck would have it, second only to the denim skirt revival, “Wait Listed” is the hottest new campus trend. Overrides are the ever-elusive it-accessory for fall. And unless a certain Lee C. owes you a favor, waltzing into L.A.”s Barfly seems more likely than admittance into the lecture you actually need. Oh woe is me! This waiting game can Crisp my fesses, which an hour of French Wit later, I learned means buttocks. (Didn”t I tell you the French could be funny?)
So what, if any options does an obsessive-compulsive-ants-in-the-pants sort of gal have to alleviate enrollment anxieties? Opt for underwater basket weaving and accept the possibility of additional semesters? I think not. Seeking guidance and support, I headed over academic advising to see what sense they could make of my situation. As I offered-up all nine of my credits, counting them off finger by finger in my most convincing little piggy fashion, the status of situation became quite clear: This little piggy has French class. This little piggy has discussion. This little piggy has a Comm. course. And this little piggy has nothin”! The crouching laughter, hidden chagrin on my appointed advisor”s face said it all. I was First Mate on the paddle-less cruise up caca creek.
So if you happen to have me wait listed, have a heart. I am not beyond bribery, and since all ethics-related courses in the Philosophy department are full for the Fall, I won”t know this is wrong, at least until the Winter semester. Unless, of course, I”m on the wait list.
Meredith Keller can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
At press time her credits totalled 13.