Registering for classes was one of my favorite parts of college. *Nerd alert* true, but there was a true craft in clocking in at exactly the correct time, entering my course codes and within seconds getting confirmation that I got the classes I wanted/needed or frantically skipping to the backups I picked. I knew what the requirements were, and I meticulously planned out which courses would satisfy which criteria, and multiple alternate selections if multiple that I needed would be held at conflicting times or if not enough spots opened up or GASP, if I wasn’t fast enough to secure some of them. We [nerds] used to hover at the website, refreshing feverishly until the designated time we were allowed to perform the holy ritual of crafting the perfect schedule. The entirety of your success, happiness, and sleep for an entire semester depended on it!
At the university where I work, students are constantly changing their course schedule during the first couple weeks. They “shop around,” attending and dropping whatever classes don’t serve them, or seem like it might be less than ideal. My friends did this too, but I was never a big fan of the method. Snap decisions based on one fifty-minute period surely couldn’t be trusted. I had signed up for these classes for Reasons, and I was going to finish what I started. Maybe the prof seemed a little weird and humorless, maybe the syllabus was droll and the reading list looked joyless, but by god, I signed up for that class for a reason, and I was going to stick it out!
I dropped a class last week, and I feel great about it. There is an auditing program for members of the community, and I snatched a spot in a highly coveted class (about Pompeii) using the aforementioned laser-focused speed in scheduling. In the weeks leading up to the first class, I was excited about it! It was going to be my treat to myself every Monday and Wednesday, and I would happily give my lunch hour those days to sit and listen to an actual archaeologist talk about it! But when I got there, it just didn’t feel right. It went beyond the teeny wooden desk.. it made me realize lecture classes were never my thing. I had to be able to talk about the material; otherwise, it felt like I could have just read a book about it. If an auditor must be silent, I must not be an auditor.
So I didn’t stick it out. And the world did not go up in flames of guilt! I emailed the program to drop and that’s when I learned how big of a waitlist it had–on top of saving my registration fee and getting back two days of potential lunch dates with coworkers, I freed up a spot for someone else who was likely discouraged by the lengthy waitlist! My backing out made someone’s day.
In terms of other drastic life changes, I also quit my Hello Fresh subscription after months of ingredient issues and glutinous, lactose-filled products. Hello Fresh has been delivering my food for more than a year, but I can’t eat half the sauces/extras/essential ingredients they send! So why did clicking “cancel my subscription” stress me out so much??
Why am I loyal to things that don’t work for me? I swear, sometimes I am so stuck in my routine that I need someone to stand up and scream CHANGE IT UP! a la a line change in Mighty Ducks 2.
I signed up for and am loving a different grocery service (Hungryroot), and am trying out another one (Green Chef) next week. I put my audit course refund towards another sewing class, which will force me to use social skills AND make something with my hands.
And, I fully intend to try another class in the spring, if only for the thrill of snagging a spot.