It's that time of year again with Thanksgiving on the horizon, and winter break not far behind. We all know what that means: registration time. This time should be fun. You get to pick which classes you will take the following semester, and masterfully craft the most perfect schedule. For some people that means no classes on Friday, or no classes before noon, or being finished by 1 everyday so you can get to work (or for some students here - get to the pool). But registration is not fun. In fact, it's probably the worst time of the year. And here's why:

You add all of the perfect classes into your shopping cart, all excited with hope for the future.

Only to slowly and tearfully watch as each of your beloved classes fill up one by one over the course of the next week by people who get to register before you.

Because your registration time slot is never ideal. Whether its at 7:30am, or smack in the middle of your chemistry exam, it's never good. And it's always too late.

You've also officially entered into the race with the 500 other kids in your specific school who all need the same classes. Not to mention the people who plan to take electives. The competition is real.

Finally, the time is here. Your alarm goes off and you start to freak.

Of course the site is glitching hardcore because there are 1,000 other kids trying to register right now who are as desperate as you and you want to die.

And then you finally get on the website, and all of the finance classes are gone except for the 8am...

...and so you begin to mentally prepare yourself for the hell you will experience.

And the panic sets in that maybe you're screwed for all your other classes too.

And you might be, so you panic even more.

But then you know that the the longer you spend debating which new class to enroll in, the more they all fill up. You can't win!! You are screwed.

At least you have that one OG class that went through. There is still hope!!

But that victory isn't enough.

So you go to your advisor to beg and pray she will work her administrative magic so you can switch into that last class you want.

And she doesn't help you.

So you walk back from advising depressed AF.

You text your friends to make sure they got screwed over too, but your schedule is still the worst by far.

And they don't seem to have had as many problems as you did and you want to cry.

And then your mom tells you you're not even taking as many classes as she did one semester during college.

But you realize you can most likely fix it all during syllabus week when people start to drop classes.

And you also realize that there are more important things to worry about in college. Like when to start drinking about this.