As it turns out, this post that I had scheduled to be posted yesterday didn't go through on time. So, now it looks like I have taken an extended hibernation over the weekend. But, besides my break from nail art, I'm heading back on track and this post is here for you today!
As most of you know, if you've been here since the beginning of this blog, I dropped out of university in the third week in. It was the Fall of 2015, I had just turned 18-years-old two and a half months prior, and I was out of my parents' houses for the first time. I was starting a prestigious program at Carleton University in Ottawa, and I thought it was going to be a great time. I had done well throughout all of high school, and I couldn't think of why it wouldn't be similar in university.
Well, as it turns out, it was much different than what I expected. I went to all of my classes, did whatever assignments I was given, and I talked to the people in my class. I was actually very lucky, because I was living with my uncle rent free, I enjoy cooking, and I got my textbooks secondhand for cheap. I was even luckier, because a few of my classmates and friends from high school were in the same city.