counting

I seem to be spending a lot of time counting these days.
I count the days before I can get back to London.
I count the days I have left before heading back to Milan.
I count the number of planes I have to board every month.
I count the time gaps between trains and buses that will take me to an airport.
I count the times we are forced to move in and out of our new home.
And I count underwear and tshirt I have left before running out in my 1-bag based existence.

But one thing above all I count: the days separating me from meeting this little one.