It may be a small thing, but its remarkably significant for me to rub away the dirty imprint from from the back of the train seats, left by the protective grommets on the flip up drinks tray
There must be a name for this type of behaviour. Perhaps to describe the first idiosyncrasy? A subtle act of insignificance which leads to a life long addiction.
Can idiosyncrasies be predictable? They are acts of comfort after all. Textures and surfaces around us are consistent. Our movements and choices are consistent too. How many acts in adulthood stem from childhood comforts? Or further back in time still – to our neanderthal days?