If there is one thing you can glean from this blog, it's this: law school is rough. It's three years of constant stress, a continuing feeling of stupidity, and crippling fear that results when you realize how much money you're actually spending and that the next decade or more of paychecks is getting sent straight to Sallie Mae. Some people dislike it; some people hate it. There are some that love it, but I just choose to put them in the "delusional" category of law students.With all this stress that's palpable as soon as you walk through the door, you would think that whenever the powers-at-be in law school have the chance, they would want to make things as simple and relaxing as possible. I laugh at this naive thought. Classes are stressful, and then you get to finals, which hit about a 10 on the Richter scale of stressful-ness. But in the middle of the semester, there comes an event that to an outsider seems completely innocuous. But to law students, we know that this one event is enough to make you want to pull your hair out and slap people. That one event? Class scheduling.
Law students spend hours picking out the perfect schedule, taking into account such variables as school requirements, bar courses, externships, areas of interest, and the desire to have at least one day off a week. Then the time to register for classes arrives, and all of the hours of planning go right out the window. For those of you who have seen The Hunger Games, it's comparable to the moment when all of the tributes are standing on their platforms, waiting for the gong to sound so they can begin to fight for their lives. Although we're not fighting for our lives, we're fighting for our law degree. For a law student, there's not much difference between the two.
Registering for classes at my old school was a nightmare. As rising 1Ls, we were required to take Evidence during 2L year. There were about 180-190 students needing to register for that class. There were 162 spots available. I'm no math whiz, but something there doesn't add up. The registration process first year was also terrible because I had to register at 4:30 p.m. Registration started at 7:30 a.m, then 9:30 a.m., then 12:30 p.m., then 2:30 p.m. I had to sit and watch as spots in my desired classes slowly ticked away. In the library, I was making no effort to be quiet as I unleashed a flurry of obscenities.
This year proved to be no different. Because not all of my credits transferred, I was forced to register with the 1Ls. I sat on a bench outside the computer lab with a 1L next to me who kept cheering in jubilation over getting his desired schedule. Although I got the days I wanted, I didn't get the desired classes. This kid was about to get a 2L schooling from me. One look from me shut him up and elicited an apology from his lips. That's right, kid. Don't be cheering around me when I'm a year ahead of you, and you're getting into the classes I want.
So there you have it. A process that could be made simple and relaxing, offering some sort of respite for overworked, sleep-deprived law students is instead an every-man-for-himself war zone. If you trip and fall, I will come back later to help you up...after I've completed my scheduling. There are no friends when it comes to registering for law school classes. There are only enemies vying for an ever-decreasing number of spots in the classes that will lead us to freedom.
To all my fellow victims/law students who are preparing to register for next semester:
May the odds be ever in your favor. And welcome to Thunderdome.
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