A senior’s farewell to pre-registration

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Love at first course conflict

Hey,

We’ve finally made it. Tonight, I will set my alarm for 7:55 a.m. so that I’ll be ready for our final moments together. I’ll most likely get out of bed around 7:58 a.m. and bring my laptop back to bed. Or maybe I’ll sleep through the whole thing and miss out on nothing at all.

Do you remember when we first met? Our first interaction will forever remain salient to my identity as a Brown student — it was the first existential crisis that I could properly refer to as an “existential crisis as a college student.” While friends at other schools were registering for their classes for real, I had this weird, uniquely stressful “fake registration” where I could sign up for courses, knowing that these classes could completely change by the time Shopping Period rolled around.

Navigating Banner was weird and overwhelming. I was able to get student opinions on some classes (thanks, Critical Review), but it was still hard to know what was up. Like a total amateur, I used our first experience together to sign up for four entirely uncapped classes. I killed it.

Pre-registration, you’ve seen me at my best. We’ve had many coffee dates together where we’ve casually explored the endless possibilities that come with a Brown education and the phenomenal courses that are offered here. We’ve thrown around the idea of taking classes on the nature of love, and then laughed it off because we’re way too cynical to spend an entire semester taking love seriously. We’ve explored syllabus after syllabus, musing over potential reading lists and topics we’ve always wanted to learn more about. We’ve high-fived over reducing the red conflict boxes from six to one, or sometimes even eliminating them entirely.

You’ve also seen me at me at my worst — like that time that I had to pre-register, while abroad, at the same time that my University’s power, along with power in many parts of the city, was predicted to shut off for 2-4 hours (note: this is a thing that very much happens across South Africa in order to “properly allocate” power). I called nearly 10 coffee shops before I found one that was going to be online at the time of our reunion. I was insanely nervous. I could barely breathe. And guess how much it mattered? Not even a bit.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, while I’m upset that this will be our last time together, I’m not really sure why you’ve been there in the first place. It’s November 2nd. How do you possibly expect me to pick my classes for next semester now? Besides being in complete and utter denial about having to graduate in May, I am unequipped to even think beyond what I’ll be eating for dinner tonight. And I’m definitely not alone. Ask any senior to talk about pre-registration and you’ll most likely get some combination of a deep sigh, eye roll, and “I can’t even.”

Anyways, while I wish you had announced your presence with a side note that you’re pretty irrelevant, I’m sad this will be our last time together. At least for now.

Love,

Charlotte

Image via my stressful Banner cart. 

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