I put once slice of bread on a pan. Next, I layer on turkey and sprinkle on the mozzarella. I put it in the broiler for two minutes and turn my attention to the other slice of bread. On it, I spread basil pesto, cover it in baby spinach, and finally slice half an avocado to add. About this time, the timer dings, and I put the two halves of my sandwiches together.

In between lunches at my high school's dining hall and Samford's Caf this summer, I found myself making this sandwich almost every single day. To some, that may seem boring or way too repetitive, but I enjoyed it every time.

I sit in the same place in class every day. Most of my meals from the Caf are grilled chicken. I only take notes in pencil, but I make my "To Do" lists exclusively in pen. I am a creature of habit. I find comfort in tradition and routine. There is room for spontaneity in my life, but, for the most part, you will find me in the same place, at the same time. I'm not sure why I cling to habits and weird rituals, but I do.

I ate the same thing in every restaurant I went to until about age 13. It took me no time to scan the menu, find the chicken fingers, and know exactly what I wanted to eat. My family finally teased me so much that I branched out, and I began to try new things. However, there's a catch: when I find something I like on a menu, I do not deviate.

I went to Tazikis at least once a week during the summer between my junior and senior year, and I ordered a chicken basil pesto gyro every time. (Notice a theme? I like chicken, and I find no reason to mess around with anything new.) While other options on the menu may sound good, I find myself ordering the same thing over and over again. There is some kind of comfort in knowing what exactly to expect when the waitress brings me my plate, I suppose.

And just as there is comfort in knowing what I will eat, there is comfort in knowing what to expect when I wake upon the morning. I have a strict morning routine that I adhere to. The order of things is always the same. Some of this makes logical sense (i.e. washing my face before I put on makeup), but some of it is random, born from years of making a habit.

Going to a favorite restaurant and trying something new is a big adventure for me. In the morning, if I forget a step of my routine or do something out of order, it throws me off. Breaking my routine can cause a lot of stress. Even if it is something minor, it makes me stop for a moment, confused. While I would consider myself to be a flexible person, this flexibility is a learned behavior. It is the result of me telling myself over and over again that it is alright if things don't go according to my plan or if my habit is disrupted.

My habits and routines can be weird, and I can't quite explain how some of them developed, but I find comfort in knowing that tomorrow morning I will wake up, go to the bathroom, and wash my face. I will put on my makeup while I drink my tea, and then I will savor the last moments in my PJs before I get dressed and slip out the door to walk to class.