attempting to discover where to begin
When Daniel Faraday is especially nervous, he likes to count things to distract himself. As a child, he used to count everything, often: the ticks of metronomes and clocks, cars on the road, leaves on the ground... but it faded over time, as habits sometimes do, and now it only surfaces when he's waiting on pins and needles for something (like when he counted how many times Miles tapped his foot while waiting to board the Kahana, and how many times Charlotte blinked during physical training - he lost count after Naomi pinned him to the floor).
Right now, he's waiting for Winny to meet him up here in the Conrad's main lobby; he looks as stylish and snappy as ever with a new suit and a haircut (just a trim), but he doesn't seem concerned with anything right now (like the fact that his tie is up over his shoulder, blown that way when someone opened the door just as a breeze rushed by), because he's busy trying to figure out what numbers the receptionist is dialing on the phone so he can add them up. So far, he's been guessing.
So far, he's hit a guesstimated sum of 352.
He's pacing as he listens and counts, head slightly bowed, gaze focused on the floor.
Right now, he's waiting for Winny to meet him up here in the Conrad's main lobby; he looks as stylish and snappy as ever with a new suit and a haircut (just a trim), but he doesn't seem concerned with anything right now (like the fact that his tie is up over his shoulder, blown that way when someone opened the door just as a breeze rushed by), because he's busy trying to figure out what numbers the receptionist is dialing on the phone so he can add them up. So far, he's been guessing.
So far, he's hit a guesstimated sum of 352.
He's pacing as he listens and counts, head slightly bowed, gaze focused on the floor.