It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I’ve been a tiny bit busy lately. I know, any excuse for not updating you with the inner workings of my little brain. But I really have been busy.

You know that job I didn’t think I’d get?

I got it.

So I have gone from grumbling through three days a week of misery in the Hellhole Known as My Previous Employer to spending my days playing with numbers, reading reports and going on excursions (today, I saw the Premier). Much more satisfying and dare I say it, enjoyable. BUT I am now working five whole days a week. And I am now a commuter. Yes, I have joined the ranks that trek up the highway to the Big Smoke. This commuting trek is only for a relatively short time, at which point we shall be able to resume our usual programming, as I will not be spending three and a half hours a day getting to and from work. Unsuprisingly, this renders me somewhat comatose at the end of the day. My brain is full of exciting tales for your reading pleasure, so there is plenty for you to look forward to – eventually.

Now, just to tide you over, I am going to share with you a snippet or ten about my commute. My wonderful and courteous new employer believe that a happy work force leads to a productive workplace. This is such a change from working in the Hellhole (coffee, anyone? Piece of fruit? Oh, what about a massage…); and in the interests of convenience for the staff, they are running a bus so that we don’t have to squeeze onto the train, which is an adventure in itself.

My preferred mode of transport is the Train. This is primarily because the bus doesn’t always suit me; and also because, despite my advancing years, I still get car sick if I so much as put my head down in a moving vehicle. This means reading, writing – anything more than staring mindlessly out a window or having a wee kip means I am liable to lose my lunch. Whilst sometimes it’s nice to stare aimlessly out the window, on a regular basis it feels like a waste of *me* time. So I tend to catch the train. But the train comes with it’s own set of interesting drawbacks.

1. I catch a train fairly early in the morning. Not as early as some, but still early. Normally, I get there early enough to see the “special train”. The Special Train is a gentleman of advancing years. On a push bike. Wearing a hard hat. Every morning at about 6.53am, he blows a horn and pedals along past the platform as fast as he can. Making train noises. Cracks me up, it does. Every morning, just before the 6.56 arrives – there he is.

2. I get on the train at the second stop in the morning. This means that if I position myself close enough to the edge of the platform and if I have my elbows at the correct height, I can finangle my way into the carriage and get myself a nice, comfy seat. This is a good thing. If I got on one stop later… I’d be STANDING for the entire journey. That wouldn’t be so much fun. Coming home, I sometimes catch the bus, but mostly catch the 16.55. This train is Old Skool. It has compartments! It’s an old diesel loco and takes for ever to stop at all stations. But hey, can stretch out and relax.

3. Things I like about travelling on the train… I can read (no, I do NOT know why I don’t get sick on trains); I can catch up with reading reports and the like for work, too. But mostly, I just read. Uninterrupted 50 minutes of reading time – bliss! In the afternoons, I have been getting MX which is the free paper, reading it and attempting to do the puzzles before I toss down the whole thing in disgust when I stuff up the suduko. I used to be lucky to read a book in two weeks - now, I am reading about two or three a week. I like listening in to other people’s conversations, too. Like you know she’s gone all like weird you know like she’s studying and stuff like and she’s not mucking up like. Like. Teenagers are like you know… Like.

4. Things I don’t like so much about travelling on the train. Aside from the whole three and a bit hours total commute and all that… You’d be thinking that in the morning at least, most people would have had some kind of interaction with the whole soap and water scenario. Well, you’d be wrong. Soap is apparently optional for rather a substantial proportion of the average city commuter. And the wearing of the expensive clothing is not an accurate predictor of how close the wearer has been to the shower that day. This is most noticable when I am squeezing myself onto the Loop train in the morning.

5. I am also not so keen on the pressure I put myself under in order to catch a train that gets me home in time to say “Hi” to the Bloke Of The House and the offspring. After a particularly fraught evening involving skin of ones teeth and the sight of Fair Harriet RUNNING (and been damn grateful for flat shoes and the wearing of trousers, I tell you what); an alarm has been set up on my computer to advise me that it’s TIME TO GO NOW, ok?

6. And techincally, it’s not *A* train that I catch in the morning – it’s two trains. I have to change trains in the morning – push my way off the first train, using as many skills as I needed to get *on* it in the first place; trundle up and down ramps and across platforms to find the right train that’s headed my way. Then I get to shoehorn my way onto the Loop train. Quite frankly, this is an experience. An unpleasant one. Particularly for all the people who get whacked in the head and randomly stepped on by Little Miss Incompetent… Yes, that would be me. I’m a danger to myself and everyone around me, and I am armed with a backpack, so watch out!

So there you have it. This is week five of thirteen weeks of commuting. I am sure that by Christmas I will indeed be able to change trains without maiming anyone AND walk up the escalator at Parliament Station without being a coronary candidate three quarters of the way to the top!