I certainly don’t have the worst commute. I travel along the south coast, seeing some amazing scenery along the way and am lucky to have a train gang who I travel with on most days.
But nobody chooses a commute do they? Nobody chooses to extend their working day by 3 hours, to worry about delays and crowded trains, and the unnecessary waiting around. There’s also the cost of traveling. Again, as I don’t commute into London it could be worse but the money I spend on traveling I could certainly use elsewhere!
Commuting has also had quite an impact on my relationship, surprisingly. Previously, my husband and I worked similar shifts, arriving home at similar times. Now, I’m the first to leave the house and the last to return. My husband now walks the dog in the morning and sees to dinner and anything else in the evening.
Now don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be cooking, even if I were at home! I’m awful, to the extent I think I have a slight fear of it! For my husband though, it’s the fact that he works as much as I do but has the added responsibility of mornings and evenings. The difficulty we have though is that’s not going to change any time soon, so we’re going to have to adjust. He will work away every so often so I then have that responsibility as well as my 12 hour day. Swings and roundabouts.
What I find fascinating about the commute is how familiar we become with other people but yet knowing nothing about them. There are the furious keyboard bangers, tapping away as if their lives depended on it, telling us, “I really should have done this yesterday.” The sleepers, how do they do it? I wish I could. The make up putter onners, again how do they do it? And there are the odd ones. The woman who requested me as a friend on Facebook but has completely ignored me on the train. What’s all that about?
There is something about the train that saps all of our human instincts, like smiling, chatting, making eye contact. Can’t possibly happen on the train!
What about those people that have to conduct their really important conversations on the train? Do we really need to hear it, but should we be hearing it? I feel a bit awkward knowing somebody is facing the sack before they do!
Hopefully before long I’ll be driving, and then I can moan about the drive to work instead and no doubt miss the simplicity of sitting on a train watching the world go by.
Mid Forties Mum 