7.30.25: Counting Steps

When I cross the street, I always count my steps. Don’t know when it started, but now I can’t not do it. Right foot hits the curb: one. If I lose count, I start over. It’s not about superstition, it’s just this low-level background ritual that makes things feel less chaotic. I’ve done it in New York, Tokyo, Chiang Mai—doesn’t matter. Funny how your brain invents these small controls in places you don’t have any. I’ve never told anyone this before. But I’m guessing most people have a similar tick. Or I’m insane. Probably both.