That is my countdown method. I'm counting down Saturdays, I'm counting down trash days. I'm counting down mortgage payments, I'm counting down pay days. Every thing that there is to count, I'm counting. Grocery shopping days, breakfasts, laundry nights. Every single thing there is to count, I'm counting on. I'm counting on all of these things to keep me sane and to force the time to pass. And now, I'm just counting myself crazy.
There are so many compulsive comforts that we develop while we're waiting for something. Counting, excessive time consumption, landmarking moments. I don't know that it's healthy, often because those compulsive comforts carry over even after the waiting is over. Except once the waiting is over, the counting is exactly what does drive us mad. Counting down until the next time he leaves. Waiting for the next phone call or set of orders.
Spending time counting... what kind of life is that? Spending moment after moment counting down to something, and then once that something happens, a new countdown starts. It's an ugly cycle. But it is a comfortable and stable cycle, especially in a life of no stability. Counting is my security blanket.