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Gasping for breath, Panakeia arrived at the Registrar's Office. She sat down on a bench outside the door to collect her thoughts. Though she had avoided a stay in the psychiatric hospital, she had a feeling that Anakron would not be happy with her behavior.
What should I do? she thought. I can't go back or I'll wind up in a padded room. I don't think they’ll give me the option of signing in twice. Not after the stunt I just pulled. But somehow, I have to get a clear evaluation to get out of here.
Maybe I should go back to see Dr. Sigmund. He's the one I was supposed to see anyway. But if I do that, you had better behave yourself this time. Deal?
I won't say a word. As long as you behave yourself too, my dear.
Okay. Let's give this another try.
Panakeia stood and began to return to the psychiatric department. As she started to leave, the Registrar's Office beckoned to her. It had been a fairly long run from the hospital. Not wanting to have made a wasted trip, she went inside to pick her classes. A basket near the door labeled Course Catalogs was empty, so she approached the nearest desk to ask for help.
"Excuse me. I'd like to sign up for a class," she said to a woman in horn-rimmed glasses.
"Do you have your course number?"
"No. I was hoping you could help me."
"What do I look like, the registrar?"
"As a matter of fact, you do." Panakeia pointed to a badge pinned on the woman's blouse. It said ‘Registrar’ in bold letters.
She replied huffily. "Always so demanding. Can't you lazy students do anything for yourselves?" As she spoke, she pulled out a long sheet of paper out of a drawer. "Here's a list of courses."
"Introduction to Fashion Design. That looks interesting."
"Filled." The registrar grinned smugly.
Panakeia's conscience chirped. Oh, oh. Look. Take the World Philosophy Class. Please?
"What about Philosophy 101?"
The registrar’s grin grew wider. "Canceled."
Panakeia cried out in exasperation, "Well, what is available?"
"Sales and Marketing in a Futile System, offered by the business department. Take it or leave it."
For once, Panakeia agreed with the nagging voice, which had started to protest against the course. The class sounded horribly boring, but it was the only option.
"Fine. Sign me up."
The registrar pulled out a slip of paper, scribbled the class name and information on it, and handed it to Panakeia.
"There. Are you happy now? Goodbye and good riddance." With that, the registrar stomped off to a back room.
Satisfied that she had managed to find a class, if not the one she wanted, Panakeia went to look for Dr. Sigmund.
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