Left Behind

I go to school with crazies.  That's with a capital King Tut crunkers C.  Today, you see, marked the beginning of course registrations for the spring term.  When I learned this from Laura, who had visited the registrar's office on Monday to find out the exact hour registration would begin, I thought, "That's super, I will deal with this over the weekend."  But apparently, things get competitive.  And Laura was the 20th person to stop by the registrar's office that day.  So I wavered.  And yesterday, the intensity of all the in-class schedule comparing and Excel sheets made me realize that everyone else had their priorities set and I did not.  "I will join the crazies," I said to myself, "I will register for classes first thing Thursday morning."  It seemed perfectly reasonable, if not a bit zealous.  But while "a bit zealous" can get you far, far into the real world, it turns out that at school, my little bit of zealousness would have been better served learning "would you like fries with that?" in different languages ("Souhaitez-vous frites avec ça?").  By the time I got to campus at 8:35AM, everyone else had already registered for classes.  I was lucky I was to have gotten all my choices.  "The other policy class," Amy told me, "was full by 1AM."  How do people even know that?  I was sleeping at 1AM.  And si, yo quiero papas fritas con eso.