Brace Yourselves. Registration is Coming.

The apocalypse began at 8:00 AM on November 8, 2013. 

It started like any other morning: I was sleeping comfortably, wrapped in about a dozen blankets to ward off the icy wind that blew from my roommate's fan, when my alarm went off. I leaped heroically out of bed, turned it off, went to sleep, woke up to Eric's alarm, fell asleep again, woke up to my alarm again, leaped slightly less heroically out of bed, and actually turned off my alarm. Then it hit me: interim registration. 

Stomach churning with a profound sense of dread, I threw open my laptop, logged into my student portal account, and called up the registration page. Suddenly massive red letters filled my vision, spelling out my fate and confirming my worst fears. 

I was missing a tuition payment, and therefore unable to register for interim. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the campus dissolved into a frenzy of WiFi warfare. Some fled to the haven of Starbucks and their public network, but while these refugees sat sipping coffee those of us who were left in the anarchy back home struggled to refresh our browsers and snag a coveted spot in the interim of our choice. Browsers were re-installed, Ethernet cables stolen, faces smashed into keyboards in rage.

In my panic I scanned my email for any indication of a problem. Sure enough, I had received a notice the night before to go to the Registrar's office to sign up for interim. I quickly suited up for the harsh environment outside, took the stairs two at a time, and dashed out the door. I ran as fast as I could across the frozen landscape, the world around me completely devoid life aside from a few others stragglers like myself. I flung open the door to the business office let it slam behind me, blocking out the freezing winds. 

Moments later I was properly registered for my Writing Workshop interim and on my way back to the frozen fortress of South Hall. While I had evaded the worst of registration's nightmares, many were not so lucky. WiFi networks campuswide collapsed, causing widespread panic. Even in my vault-like room, the screams of frustration, fury, and terror from neighboring rooms were all too audible. The number of casualties in this horrific event are incalculable. 

And in less than a week, it's all going to begin again. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktvTqknDobU

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.