Creatures of Habit

They say us on the Autistic Spectrum are creatures of habit.  I probably take that a bit far sometimes to treating some of my routines as little ceremonies - like going to the laundromat.

If I want to wash my clothes at home, I need thousands of kilometres worth of extension cable to reach the washing machine room out the back.  Yeah, nah.  I much prefer to spend an hour and a bit at the laundromat.

It's always on a Sunday, usually towards the end of the day as the sun is beginning to set. I like to drive down Morteon street (even though I nearly got taken out at Bowen Terrace due to not being able to see - bloody street parking!) and go up Samuel Lane to Soap and Suds.  I park there and head into the Foodworks to get some gold coins for the machines.

I like the little store there, the people who run it are so polite and friendly.  I usually get a tray of celery and some sars (sometimes if I feel naughty I grab a choccy) and head back out to the car to get my washing.  There are two seats in the laundromat, one along the back wall opposite the washing machines, and one at the entrance next to the dryers.  I usually pick one of the washing machines facing the first seat, load it up for 33 minutes and settle myself down.  I usually like to dig into a Melina Marchetta or Cynthia Voigt story on my phone.  I usually get through my drink and a bit of the celery, until I notice the washing machine is done.

Then I head over to the dryer.  For the next half an hour, I'm usually engrossed in the Card Wars app (based on the episode of Adventure Time for those who are curious).  Recently though I've played a bit of Sonic CD as well.

Finally, the dryer is done and I head back home.

I love it.  It's a brilliant way to chill out for a bit while preparing for Monday.  Plus, it helps with getting me out of the house on a Sunday (otherwise I'd just spend the day in bed).  Call me a creature of habit, but my habit doesn't hurt anyone and comforts me, so what's the issue?