Yesterday I was reminded of this phenomenon. I was sitting at a cafe here in town with some friends who are also expats, but who aren't PCVs. One of them asked me if there are any other PCVs living here in this town. I told him that there aren't any other PCVs here. I explained that there used to be another PCV living here during my service, but that he decided to put an early end to his service. Then I added that about 120 new PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) will arrive here in Morocco in March. I said I figured that there's a good chance that another PCV from that stage, or group, will be assigned to start living here in late May or early June.
Then I noted to him that at this time last year, I was finding life here so much more challenging, and thus time seemed to be passing so much more slowly then. I thought of the blog post I had written in late January last year, and of how distraught I was then. I remembered how, at times, I would cope by asking myself if I could make it until the end of the day: of course the answer was always "yes." And then I said to my friend, "And now, I think about when the new PCTs are going to arrive in March, and I think, 'Wow, that's just right around the corner!'"