There are some kinds of guilt that kind of just linger and annoy you, and there are some that push you to take action.
In contrast to the complete lack of guilt for not studying over the past two days since Dad and Bua arrived, by midday today I was starting to admit to myself that falling behind like this was not something I should’ve let happen. I’d wasted valuable study time that didn’t really even have a good opportunity cost. The family time felt worth it at the time, but in hindsight, there are going to be plenty of those moments over the next few days too and they’re bound to have diminishing returns. This was the only real window I had to double down on JLPT prep.
I’d been gaining momentum in my prep right up to the point when they arrived, but I let that go. Mom, on the other hand, kept it up. She’s on to solving full N4 papers now — the level she’s attempting — and she actually has a fighting chance at passing. The passing mark is 50%, and with her current discipline, she might just do it.
It would’ve been a longer, harder road for me anyway — I signed up for N3 knowing it was a leap. Still, 3 days ago this time I was at least beginning to feel something other than complete doom.
After the first day of Dad and Bua’s being here, I recognised that I was slacking but I thought it was a temporary disruption. Somehow (and I say ‘somehow’ like it wasn’t entirely my own doing), I let the days slip. Internally, I gave up. Told myself it was too long a shot. Not worth the effort. Rational thoughts, honestly — and ones I had when I first started studying too — but ones I had fought hard to push aside. Why then, in the final stretch, was I letting them win?
It came as a sudden-ish realization: how much of a letdown it would be to myself if I didn’t spend every second left as productively as I could? It would be such a waste — of the weeks of studying, of the focus I had managed to build — if I let the final days just go.
All this guilt of these last few wasted days was somehow, miraculously enough to push me away from the allure of having fun chit chatting with the family and into forcing myself to go and sit alone at a Denny’s for 3 hours and just study.
The day had unfolded such that mom and dad were tired by early evening and headed home. Mom said she would continue studying there, and I trusted her to do exactly that. She’s been so dedicated and consistent recently, it’s been genuinely inspiring.
Bua still had energy and wanted to explore the area a bit, but said she was happy to do it on her own as long as I helped her navigate.
After we bid mom and dad off, I took her first to buy the shoes she’d been eyeing — my inner spirit that suddenly craved studying impatiently waiting as she spoke to her husband to decide which ones, and then proceeded to not pick any — and then sent her off with a plan for her evening.
Other than the occasional intermittent text to check that things were going smoothly (she mistook the mall she was meant to go to for another building with the same name and ended up in an underground market instead of the dollar store she wanted to visit, but found cool stuff there nonetheless so I’d call that smooth enough), I was in the zone. Flow state. My brain sponging up what I was studying, once again exhilarated by this inflow of information. It felt incredible. I was back.
I couldn’t help but feel miserable about the days of lost study time which, if I’d used at the pace I was currently studying at, would’ve taught me so much. But I knew there was no good to crying over spilt milk and I fended those thoughts off and tried to make up for it as much as I could by being as productive as I could now.
Bua rejoined me for dinner and we left at closing time, me feeling very accomplished with what I’d done. I felt like myself again. I resolved to keep it together and not let myself spiral or get distracted again, not until after the exam.
It’s the day after tomorrow.
I’ve got one day left to make a difference. What’s done is done, the time that’s gone is gone, no matter how I used it. I’m going to make sure that I don’t regret the time that I have left, because as slim as my chances are, I’m going to feel 100 times worse knowing that I could have tried better.