After some long period of time finally gets over, I always hear people say “that sure went fast”. Summers, school years, childhoods. Yes, it’s a period of time that you once perceived as lasting forever, so realizing that it actually has an ending can be shocking, but why do people think it went fast? It’s almost an insult to say that it went slowly. Like you were counting down the minutes until it got over. That’s somewhat true. I think there’s some scientific merit to my thought that 80 minutes in my Intro to Theology class actually lasts 110 minutes. But at the same time, if you don’t live your life with your nose completely to the grindstone, it’s completely possible that a long, fun period of time could draw to an end without seeming as if it flew by.

The first semester was filled with moments of genuine relaxation. With the memory of a Europe trip last summer that cut a gash through the continent in just 13 days leaving me exhausted just thinking about it, I made sure that I studied, went out, slept in, and explored at my own pace for this trip. Looking back, it wasn’t a blur. I remember vividly spending hours walking from one Tokyo landmark to another, even though it would take 110 yen and five minutes to take the subway. I passed up on listening to my iPod in the trains or sleeping, and instead let it last exactly as long as it was supposed to. I’m not going to look back on that 18 hour train ride from Hiroshima to Tokyo and claim that time sped by.

This semester, however. This semester sped by. My daily routine puts every hour at a premium. I can’t walk home from from school at 12:30 and think that I have 10 hours to do 2 hours of homework. I have to shove things out of the way in order to find time to study more than the bare minimum. I stopped working on Tuesdays and Thursdays this month so I could study, I’ve tried to do whatever studying I could on the subway, my weekends have been relegated to the library, and the primary impulse to update this blog is obligation rather than a genuine desire. Every night, when I go to bed, I’m always surprised that I’m here once again. Another day ticked by.

I’m sure this comes across as complaining, but it’s really not. I’ve never been this busy in my life, and it’s great. I go to school in the morning because I want to, I go to a job in the afternoon because I want to (the money is a nice bonus), and I study for classes and the upcoming JLPT because I am finally in an opportune environment for it. I don’t have any problem with being busy (to a degree), but it does tend to make time fly. Like how in June, I was amazed how close I was to something that had always been a remote plan of mine, I’m amazed how close I am to this whole thing being over. At the same time, it’s not over. And I’m a little miffed at myself for even discussing this. I mentioned at the end of last semester how much I would hate being ripped away from this place after just three months. If anything, it seems worse after six.

So, sure. I’m looking forward to next semester. But I hope time flies by a little slower after the JLPT test next weekend. And I wish my teachers would stop talking about “when you get to level 5″.

(Yes, there are still some things I’m behind on when it comes to blog posts, but I’ll get to them before this whole thing is over.)