Countdown

Eight days until The Move, the calendar says.

My pulse quickens.

Twenty-five days until The Wedding, the calendar says.

I start to hyperventilate. My palms get clammy. My shaking hands whip out several To Do lists and I begin yanking lines of completion across each task.

Seven hundred, forty-five days until The First Degree, the calendar says.

I pause.

One thousand, one hundred eighty days until The Year in Europe. One thousand, four hundred, eighty-four days until The Second Degree. One thousand, seven hundred, fifty-seven days until the First Baby. Two thousand, six hundred forty days until The First House, the calendar says.

Comfort steals over me.

For a minute there, it felt like every milestone was breathing down my neck.