Confusion
Your advisor explained how to read your DARS report (for probably the 3rd time), but that was a week ago and the details are a little fuzzy. What is supposed to count for a natural science credit again? How many credits do you have to take to graduate on time? What’s the easiest Com B class on campus? Perhaps you’ll just never get your degree…
Desire
You’ve managed to create the perfect schedule. No classes on Fridays OR Mondays, you’ve picked the best professors and you never have to walk up Bascom Hill. Oh yeah, you want this schedule. You need this schedule.
Confidence
You know you’re ahead of the game credit-wise, so you’re absolutely positive you’ll get all your first choices. This semester is in the bag.
Panic
You log on to enroll and one after another, you see red triangles. You’re wait listed on two of your most important classes and the panic sets in. You didn’t pick any back-up classes and begin scrambling to fill your schedule.
Frustration
You quickly realize that your schedule will not be quite what you envisioned. You are struggling to find classes that just WON’T fit together and keep getting kicked out of the Student Center, because your login time is expiring.
Anger
You scream internally at the sheer annoyance of trying to figure out what the heck you’re supposed to do now. You curse your advisor. You curse the professor who won’t take more students. You curse every person who scheduled before you. You curse everyone; because there’s no way anyone else is or will have this much trouble finding classes for next semester.
Despair
You’ve given up. You realize you might as well just drop out of school, because at this rate, you’ll never get any of the classes you’ll need. Goodbye, dream job. Hello, McDonalds.
Excitement
While despairingly clicking around, you find a class that fulfills a requirement. And it looks interesting. AND it’s open. This is it. You get a second wind and begin enrolling at a rapid fire pace.
Relief
You’ve done it. You’ve managed to fill your schedule with worthwhile classes, and while they’re not all your first choice, you think next semester might be OK after all.
Pat yourself on the back and go grab a drink. You’re ready for another semester (kind of).