This August, I’m heading to Venice, Italy. I’ll spend the entire semester studying there and traveling around Europe. The whole excursion ends up being 106 days: I’ll be back right before Christmas.

I didn’t really realize how much time I’d be away from the United States (and my home, my family, and my friends) until earlier this week when I was filling out my Italian visa application.

Three months—15 weeks—152,640 minutes—9,158,400 seconds.

“Count to nine million, and I’ll be back!” I jokingly told my mom as I scribbled the dates of my stay on my visa app.

It wasn’t until after the words came out of my mouth that I even really understood the weight they held: 9,158,400 seconds. Isn’t that a long time?

Time is a funny thing. It’s objectively measured, but subjectively considered and felt.

I feel like my college years are zooming by me. I feel like if I blink, I’ll miss them entirely. I guess the idea about time flying when you’re having fun is a cliché for a reason.

At the same time, I feel like every second I spend waiting on a microwave ding is the longest second I’ve ever endured. No matter how many times I blink, there will still be time left on the countdown.

Those 9,158,400 seconds? That’s a pretty little chunk of time. I’m infinitely excited and nervous about getting to go off and explore the world every single one of those seconds.

It’s up to me to decide whether those seconds will be “miss-it-if-you-blink” great or “microwave-minute” not so great.

Time is a funny thing. You can make it count or you can let it waste.

Here’s hoping I make the most of these three months of culture, learning, adventure, and the unknown. Here’s hoping I can ask myself “how did it get so late so soon?” come December.

Maybe, though, just maybe, it’s a bad idea to be considering the concept of time at all. Maybe it’s better to just live in each moment as it comes.

After all, time is a funny thing.