And I was Worried I Wouldn't Have Anything to Blog About!

It's official. I am old. 35 is the new 82. Mr. J. says that when you start saying, "When I was that age, I would have never done that!" you're officially old. So that's me. Teacher Granny.

Today was my first day working with the incoming freshmen. I have seen the future and I am afraid.

My job is to take the schedule - advised by the advisors and "built" by the undergraduate student assistants - and enter it into the computer. Please don't ask me why there are so many steps in the process in this day and age. Look away from the clunky antiquated process and focus, people!

So, I'm at one end of the room sitting at the computer. The soon-to-be-freshmen sit in chairs along the wall and wait for me to say, "I can help whoever is next."

One of the freshmen was just adorable. Very Katie Holmes pre-crazy cute. As soon as she sat down and opened her mouth, I was scared. Who knew the Anti-Christ would come in that form?

It started innocently enough, "Hi, how has your day been?" "It's been crazy. So much to do. Plus, I'm the first person in my family to go to college." Now I opened up my stupid, fat piehole. "Wow, that can be difficult. Just make sure you get enough support from the right administrators and people on campus - they can be really helpful." Katie/Satan said, "I'm not worried. I'm the kind of person who will do whatever I need to do to get what I want. No matter what."

I didn't say anything, but my face must have shown fear because she quickly corrected herself, "I - I - I don't mean anything really bad like that, I mean, like, I always turn my papers in late and stuff and my teachers say they don't take late papers, but for me, they do."

Aah, well, that explains these cheeky little bastards I've had to deal with all year, now doesn't it?

I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "As someone who is also an instructor on this campus," I said icily, "I highly recommend you break that habit. My syllabus is clear - for every day a paper is late, you lose one letter grade." She laughed. "Yeah, yeah. That's what my teachers say, too, but they don't mean it for me. I'm always their favorite." I wanted to say, "Yeah, you're their favorite because they don't want to watch you sprout horns and a tail." Instead I said, "Let's get your schedule done, shall we?"

Earlier this morning, I had been told that all the freshmen English classes were closed. Now even the "viable alternates" were filling up. When I entered Katie the Anti-Christ's schedule, I showed her the visual representation of it. She got exasperated and bratty very quickly. "What!??!? What?! The advisor wrote down Tuesday and Thursday for my English class! Why would she change it to Monday, Wednesday, Friday? God, why would she do that!? WHY!?!? People are so stupid!" She wasn't so much fast approaching a temper tantrum as she was a postal employee incident.

I clicked around in the system. "Well, it looks like the one your advisor picked had filled up and so the student assistant chose this alternative for you. It's the same class, and it still fits in your schedule." Get this:

She sighed heavily, started erasing the entry and said, "God! This place is like the Bureau of Motor Vehicles! Nobody can do anything right. Everybody has to do the same thing ten times before they figure it out."

She had been on campus for six hours, and already had an attitude. I sat there in silence. What should I have said? "Classes fill up, you arrogant little brat and it doesn't mean people are incompetent?" Or, "Maybe, if you were a bit more organized and weren't, like, the two thousandth person to be going through this program, you'd have more choices?" Or, finally, (because I have access to their high school transcripts and test scores - oh, the illicit thrills!) "Perhaps if you weren't such a moron, you could go to an Ivy League school instead of this B-list one. But sadly, for you, you're going here and will be surrounded by incompetent morons for at least the next four years. It will be like living at the DMV. How'd ya like them apples, sis-tah?"

Her schedule rolled off the printer. "Here you go, your first schedule. Good luck and maybe I'll see you in the fall" (all the while thinking, "Hopefully my eyes won't melt out of their sockets if I do".) Then she was back to being a normal 18-year-old girl. "Now I'm off to find out where I live. Yea!!! It's going to be so much fun. I'm so excited. Wheeee!!!!" and off she went, skipping and giggling.

gob help us all.