Sometimes, habit and routine get a bad wrap. After all, how can someone really enjoy life (or, more pointedly, study abroad) if life is full of sameness? I don't quite understand that view. I don't have a drive for the perpetually new. I am a creature of habit and a creature of routine. Now, those two things are not quite the same. For example, when I shower, I wash my hair first - that is habitual. There is no reason and no meditation upon the action. I wash my hair first without thinking of what order I am doing things. On the other hand, between 2:30 and 3:00, I stop working, come downstairs, and get tea and cookies (specifically, digestives - think British graham crackers). I do that daily, and yet it stands out in my mind as a special thing to do. It is routine.
I would like to posit (thank you Julia for reminding me that word exists) that routine is a beautiful thing. Habit happens; routines are made and crafted out of the best parts of ordinary good days. Habits form out of reflex; routines form out of deliberateness.
The other day, I varied my habit of walking back up Botley to return home, and instead took the path along the river. It was beautiful. I decided that path is going to be my new normal route (for as long as the weather allows). In a single afternoon, I decided to turn novelty into routine, and I happy I did. I cut a habit that was neither good nor bad, and established a routine I prefer.
I love routine. I have habits. I am not afraid of novelty, but neither am I afraid of normalcy. Of course, I have plenty of habits I don't care for. I have habits that used to be routines that contained homely, happy meaning. Well. That's life. One of these days, I'll get the balance right.