A Diploma in Commuting

I have a fresh train challenge. I am going to endeavour to write four essays in six months. Now, that might not sound like too bad a challenge. That’s what university students up and down the country are doing whilst also maintaining their daily lie-in. However, my challenge is to do these four essays on top of full-time work and 2 hours of commuting a day.

Why?

Like many industries, mine has a ‘Diploma’ qualification that takes three or so years to achieve. I have completed years one and two. I then moved jobs and moved down to the bottom of the country (only bottom in geography, not in quality of location!) and swiftly forgot all about the third year as I grappled with the new politics and procedures of my new work place.

New year resolution was to get back on track with this qualification. I then found out that the awarding body are now phasing out this qualification for a different one which is pretty much the same except for the title. This means that if I do not complete the final stage (4 assignments) before June 2007, I lose the work already started and have to re-qualify.

How ridiculous is this?!

However, I have always been someone who strives to work to deadlines. There is nothing like a speedily approaching closing date to get your butt into action.

And so, I have commenced what I call ‘Operation Commuter’. The essence of this plan is to complete as much work on my four essays as possible while travelling on the train. I have two hours a day where I sit there doing nothing much except read, sleep and think. Therefore, if I use this time productively, I could get myself a Diploma in no time at all.

So, I started this week. It’s hard. People keep on sitting next to me so I have to reshuffle my bags and extra papers and place them under my seat. I try to concentrate but I keep wanting to sleep (especially on the evening journey). I am most productive in the morning before hoards of people get on at a stop on my journey. I have written about 4 or so pages (handwritten of course) which seems a good start. However, it’s been years and years since I attempted to write an essay by good old fashioned pen and paper methods. At university I would do the whole thing on a computer – right from first thoughts all the way through to completed document. It makes editing much easier. Already my papers are full of scribbles and crossings out. It’s messy.

Once I’m happy with what I have written down on paper, I am going to attempt to put all of it into work on my little handheld thing. A slightly lengthy process as there is no keyboard as such, but at least it means I don’t have to do it at home.

Well, I’ll keep you posted as to when I give up with this process and just take it all home with me!

Too many cooks spoil the broth

Another week commences.
What is it about Mondays during the winter that is so substantially dismal?
This morning I was even more befuddled than normal when the alarm went off. I truly thought it was Sunday morning and I felt enormously bad-tempered that the radio had switched itself on at the weekend.
And then I remembered.

I have noticed that, since the return to work in January and the onset of various engineering works and problems with the trains, that there are colossal numbers of South West Trains staff patrolling the platform of the station where I board the train. There are literally swarms of them in coats and high-visibility jackets. They just stand around in groups of three or four, chatting amongst themselves and generally taking up a lot of space on the platform. I can’t quite grasp why there are so many. Are they members of staff who have been displaced from other stations where there is only a bus service? But what is their function? They don’t talk to customers. There are just a couple checking tickets, and sadly the free-tea man has disappeared. The rest seem to be wasting time for no apparent reason, having a laugh with their hands in their pockets. Perhaps it is for show – ‘look we know the service is rubbish for those of you who have the misfortune to step onto one our 1970s replacement bus services, but there are loads of staff about to help you get on the bus and to answer any questions.’ Yeah, loads of staff. Too many staff !!

Have you noticed how the replacement bus services now have South West Trains branding on them? They recognise that they need to use them so often that they have taken the decision to actually invest in some and paint them red and yellow and whatever other colours are in the branding. Good thinking there. But not very reassuring for lowly passengers like me.

On another point, I read an article today about how trains are the new work place. Apparently you can adjust the work/life balance by working on the train instead of/as well as in the office. This can save the amount of time you spend at work. Nevermind the issues of privacy and teenagers hurling abuse at each other, and people peering over your shoulder (I always do this when someone sits next to me with a laptop. I’m just nosy, but I might learn something interesting. Plus I like to see what people do for a living and stuff like that. I also like to see what books people are reading, and then I feel especially smug if I have already read that one.)

So, perhaps I should use the little handheld thing more often? Or I could just sleep.

Big Grin

When I travel on the train to work, I step into my little cocoon. My world of books and sleep. An occasion to catch up on sleep and thoughts before I get off at my stop and enter into the real world of work. The train is a place where I am a nonentity; nobody knows me (well, except for chance encounters) and I can simply escape into my own little world for a time.

Sometimes, as I have frequently mentioned, I nod off on the train. Perfect. I never go to bed early enough anyway. What better opportunity to catch up on sleep while travelling to and from work?

Every so often, when I fall asleep, my mouth drops open slightly. We all do it. It occurs when you fall asleep whilst in an upright position. It’s the uncomplicated law of gravity that Sir Isaac Newton himself ascertained. Just substitute that apple with my drooping chin, and voilà ! Gravity explained!

If I attach this picture of gravity in my post above left, will you think I’m clever?

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Anyway, there I was one evening after a lengthy, arduous day at work, sitting on the train. My head began to loll a little to one side. My hands began to feel weak, so I put my book away. Indeed, the hands are usually the first signs that I’m feeling drowsy. It begins to feel like too much of a hardship to continue to hold the book up, my hands are feeble and they want to relax. My eyes get weary. My eyelids droop. I begin to relax even more. And before you know, you’re asleep.

You stay in blissful sleep until you wake up, gather your things and get off the train. And that’s all you know of it.


Except, I forget that two of my colleagues often take the same train as me.

There is no justification for forgetting. From time to time we appear at the station at the same time after work and travel part of the way home together.

So, once I had put my book away, leaned my head back and started to sleep, that was it, I was gone.

The next day at work, one of my colleagues came laughing into the office and said to me,

“what were you thinking last night?”

“Pardon? Erm….[slightly embarrassed]…what do you mean?” I stammered. I didn't think I was going to like where this was going.

“On the train last night. I was going to come and take a seat with you but I saw you were asleep. Your head was back and you had this HUGE grin on your face while you were sleeping. [does an impression of my huge grin]”

“Oh my god”

“it was very funny, I thought ‘she must be having some very nice thoughts'”

He has managed to pass this slightly embarrassing story around to a few people now, to general hilarity.

I should try and be more careful about who is around me before launching into ‘anonymous train commuter’ mode shouldn’t I?

The Annual Work Christmas Party and My Fears for Drunkeness

Work Christmas Parties.

You’ve got to love them really. Mine is on Friday. It will be my first party with this company as I joined in September. I’m looking forward to it, even if some of the more cynical amongst my colleagues are not. All the “youngsters” are though! It’s free drink, a free afternoon off work, and an extremely fine opportunity to get to know the people I spend everyday with a lot better!

From what I hear, it promises to be a really drunken affair. Nothing new there then. What else do you expect from a party with limitless supplies of free alcohol?

The slightly bad thing is, I have my boyfriend’s work Christmas party to go to the evening before my one (which is a daytime turning into an evening bash, so it’s an early drinking start)

So, I am going to TRY not to drink too much at the BF’s party (as if) so that I can still raise my weary head at 6am to get the train to work to go to another party.

I can just tell this is going to be a disaster.

I tend to drink quite a lot when I’m in a slightly awkward situation. I think the BF Christmas Party just might count as one of these situations. Standing around with a group of people I don’t know, who don’t know me, and making random conversations all night long.

And then, once I have decided to leave my own Christmas party (which I can tell is not going to be until late – I never am good at leaving a party early), I can battle with the trains home again. Whilst drunk. Perhaps I’d better make sure that I don’t go home steaming drunk during rush hour. I’m also fearful of some kind of incident on the train. Such as being sick. At least there are loos.

I had a friend who was once just sick in her lap on a packed train of commuters from London. She then had to sit there with everyone screwing up their noses in distaste at her foul behaviour. I really would rather not do that. I have already thrown up in the car this month. Not a good thing to do. Especially not if you put your head out of the window but forget to look backwards… if you understand me.

Anyone would think I didn’t want a Christmas party ?! I dooo !!! Just not two in a row !!! I’m not hardcore !!!

The delights of the M27 - suddenly, South West Trains don't feel too bad.

From some of my previous posts, anyone would think that I do not like my daily train journey. It’s a struggle, a bore, a pain, tedious, monotonous, irksome etc

Well, I’ve changed my mind.

I LOVE THE TRAIN IN THE MORNING! It is by far the best way to commute to work. It’s fast, comfortable and you can do other things whilst you get smoothly taken to your chosen destination. Hell, you can even sleep.

Why the change in attitude?

I drove to work this morning.

If I thought taking the train for 58 minutes was bad enough, I was sadly mistaken. Spending 2 hours in the car this morning with only Radio 1 for company while I endlessly release the clutch for just a few meters of first gear bliss, was one of the most stressful ways to get to work.

Despite leaving the house at 7.10am I was still 10 minutes late to work (start time is officially 9am). Plus, I was bursting for the loo, something which I have mentioned that always seems to happen to me in the car in my very first post.

By all costs, avoid the M27 and the M3 in the mornings. What a drag!

I can’t wait to get back on to the trains tomorrow!

Life on a Train

Well, I am tentatively entering into the well-documented world of the personal blog. I must remember a few things...
do not write about work do not write about work do not write about work do not write about work do not write about work
In fact, blogging came to my attention as a result of reading about the woes of certain bloggers when their blog turned from intimate musings to explosive life-changing incendary device.

I have (not very inventively) called my blog, "Girl on a Train" , simply because this is top of my mind as I create this page.

Yes, I spend a lot of my life on a train. Like many people do in the UK. The simple necessity of Full-Time Work means I get to sit on a train for 1 hour each way to get to the office (oops, mustn't mention work!) and spend 8 hours there and then sit on the train home.

Actually, that makes life sound rather dull doesn't it? Most people wince slightly when I tell them of my train journey. But you get used to it. You have to. In fact, I marginally enjoy it. I get to read books now. Lots of them. That certainly beats sitting in a car for 40 minutes getting more an more irate at the inadequacy of other drivers, or feeling frustration at the impending traffic jam. Or needing to use some facilities desperately, yet knowing you have at least 20 minutes on the road before you are home. In fact, there is nothing more annoying than that, and it seems to happen to me strangely frequently!

Ah yes, back to trains. Onboard facilities are the norm, so your hour-long journey doesn't turn into one of excrutiating pain/discomfort.

And then there are your fellow travellers. Each in their own world, just like I am, staring out of the window, or staring vacantly straight ahead, or sleeping, dribbling (often that is me) in sleepdom, engrossed in a good book, engrossed in a crap book, reading the paper, partaking in a spot of sudoku. It used to surprise me when I was a child that people would travel so far from home every day in order to get to work. My mother was a commuter for a time. I couldn't understand. And now here I am (for the second time in my relatively short career) spending over an hour to get to work.

And, damn, is it expensive! Probably one of the most expensive forms of travel in the UK, I estimate. You can fly to Manchester from London cheaper than you can take the train (maybe, I'm not sure about that, but it sounds good. I have been told this by a few people but have never bothered to check the verity of it). I'm not sure how train companies justify those prices. Some providers are particularly poor service. Fortunately, my provider is not too bad (so far, but I have only been doing this route for 2.5 months now. Not long enough for me to start assuming the current performance will develop into a trend) apart from my 'first week at the new job' scenario. More about that another time, I think.

If only the standard commuter train was like the train advertised on the Virgin Trains advert (You know, the ridiculous ad with the red indian riding alongside the train, supposedly attempting to steal the 'entrepreneur' type's notepad with million dollar making ideas written inside it. And then the red indian gets knocked to his death by the fast on-coming tunnel. Charming that is, Branson.) whereby you can sit there in comfort with a table to yourself, drinks poured at your demand and plenty of leg-room. Perhaps this is how it is in the exclusive 'First Class' carriage. Although not the First Class of my train provider, it looks just the same as 'standard' class, to me. Not worth the extra buck. Although perhaps a tad less crowded. Fortunately I am usually cunning enough to get a seat on my train. I never understand those people too afraid to ask people to move their damn bags (there's a shelf for those don't you know/) or budge up a little.

So, from the looks of this first blog, my life consists of exciting tirades against train companies... I can understand this may have made for a fascinating read. Hmmm.. Well, I promise to liven this up a bit. Perhaps less social commentary about train life huh?