Today is the last day you can add/drop a class. Or, actually, the last day you can add or drop a class for free.
If you're a professor reading this at the end of the day, chances are you're staring at your course enrollment and scratching your head. Where did all the students go? Surely the candy I gave them on the first day of shopping week was enough to trap them for the entire semester?
While we Harvard students are a ravenous breed, we're also extremely lazy and will not be duped by your cheap tricks. Here are a few likely reasons why your course enrollment shrank from 50 to 5.
A Spot Opened Up for a Class That's Way More Fun
We were brutally honest when we slipped into your class during the last ten minutes it met on shopping week: this was our back up in case we didn't lottery into the class we really wanted to take. For a while, it looked like we'd be enrolled, but luckily for us, one of the other students ditched Harvard to launch a startup so we're so not dealing with the 500+ pages of reading you assign every week anymore.
You assigned a response paper/blog post during shopping period
Don't they teach manners in Kindergarten? There's an unspoken rule that you should not assign homework during shopping week. What motivation have we to complete your busy work when we're still having an existential crisis about what classes to take? If you assigned a response paper — or worse, a dreaded blog post! — during shopping period, rest assured there's a mass exodus that's going to happen today.
You scheduled a section on Friday at 8 a.m.
Duh. What did you expect? That we would all give up our chance to rage on Thursday night, or trudge into section with a hangover?
The first class was great, but the second class was a snoozefest.
Your class sounded great on paper (*ahem* Game of Thrones *ahem*) but the second lecture had us all running for the hills. Better luck next time.
Our awkward hookup is enrolled in the class
For once, it's not you, it's us. We hooked up with this person freshman year, and then never responded to their frantic texts. We know we're horrible, but we haven't quite hit that responsible adult age where we'll suck it up and subject ourselves to an hour-long awkward fest for the next semester.