I like ordering things. Putting things in order, that is. When I first move into a place, I try to force myself to leave unpacking my books until last: otherwise I can spend over an hour sorting them, then changing my mind and re-sorting them. In this house they're sorted according to what they are (fiction, real-life, textbook) and then by author (if I have the time), while at my parents' house they're sorted by height order.
Lately I've been busy with essays: for me this is naturally accompanied with procrastination, unfortunately. At one point I found myself in the kitchen talking to Cat: in our kitchen we have a bowl of magnet-backed words that we put on the fridge to form sentences. While talking I sorted through the bowl of words so that they were all facing up: that was quite soothing, and I felt quite excited when all of the words were facing the same way. I did feel tempted to put them in alphabetical order: that would've taken too much time and space, though.
Just to clarify: I don't get upset when things aren't in order, which is what most fictional portrayals of Aspies seems to show. I just prefer it when they are in order: I think it's a bit like saying that my favourite colour is purple and that I don't object to other colours. Have I mentioned that my room in this house is purple? I do love it.
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