The Nightmare Before Registration


‘Twas the night before registration, and all through the campus not a soul was stirring, not even Allied Barton. Alarms were set by bedsides with care, in hopes that the green circles would still be there. The students were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of 11 a.m.s danced in their heads; and my roommate in her nightgown, and I in mine too, had just settled our brains for a restless spring snooze.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The sun was shining with its full glow, giving the luster of midday to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but the clock had struck noon, and I shed a lone tear. With motions I’ve never made so lively and quick, I knew if I wanted any class I would have to be quick.

Suppressing wicked daydreams as much as they came, I whistled and shouted and called allies by name: “Now, Blackboard! Now, Class Search! Now, Degree Audit! On, YES! On, Rate My Professor! On, VuNet! From the top of the course catalog, to the bottom and back, all classes were blue blocks- I reconsidered my track.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, I flew to the Office of the Dean, so he might placate my cries. So up to Kirkland my untied shoes flew, with a heart full of hope, and a sob story, too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the receptionist say, “Yes, he’s in his office, he’ll be with you right away.” As I thought of my script and headed for the door, I awoke from my slumber, to my roommate’s loud snore.

I peered at my clock, 6 am- I was alright. I close my eyes and whispered and I turned in my bed, “Happy Registration to all, and to all a good night!”


  • March 16, 2017