In short， I’ve learned to like and live with myself， for better or for worse.
Then all of a sudden， last fall， I knew I was ready to go back to the halls of greater learning and get that degree. I am now a journalism student at Ryerson University and， unlike 10 years ago， I am actually present.
Things could not be more different than the first time around. I now know who I am and what I’m good at.
I listen in class； I appreciate what the professors and teaching assistants have to offer.
I know that time is valuable and education is what you make of it. I balance life， school and work and still manage to get assignments done ahead of time.
Most importantly， I understand that I will have to work very hard to pay back my student loans.
I know that my degree alone will not guarantee me success or even a job.
My choice to drop out and return 10 years later is not free of fear. I sometimes feel old and out of touch； I have to work hard to relate to my younger peers.
I lose sleep wondering when I will be able to start having kids. That is if， by some miracle， I manage to get a job in journalism.
Fortunately， I know how to carry three plates at once if all else fails.
But even with the downsides， this is right for me.
I have learned grit， and I vow to beat out all these computer-genius 17-year-old kids for the best internships using my own personal super power—life experience！
So…
To the three guys in my Wednesday lecture who play computer games and watch hockey 8）highlights on their laptops during lectures： Drop out！ Come back when you care. You’ve got time.
To the girl next to me in writing class who is always chatting with her friends on Facebook： Drop out！ Stop wasting your parents’ money. Come back when you have decided that this is where you want to be and that the teacher is worth listening to.
To the student who is getting an undeclared general arts degree just because his parents said he has to be in school： Drop out！ You will go back， but it will be different the next time around because it will be on your own terms.
To the super-talented guy who never returns to class after his smoke break： Drop out！ Go apply for a small-business loan， open up a coffee shop， start a great online blog that generates ad revenue， and get more tattoos.