For the last two weeks, I’ve been complaining about having to drive and not having commuter time to write or to catch up on reading. I complained that having to sit in traffic stifled my creativity; further complaining about how much writing I could accomplish if I could just sit on the train and put my fingers to the keyboard. Well, it looks like all my protesting paid off as I woke up this morning to find that the starter on my van conked out on me. (Always be careful for what you wish dear reader. Your wish may be granted, but not in the way you might expect.)
So I trekked to the Olney subway stop, picked up a transpass and schlepped my way over to the North Philadelphia train station. The R6 regional rail train pulled up a few minutes later and I was seated and writing within a few minutes of the train’s arrival. To say I enjoyed my first day on the train was an understatement. I threw on a pair of headphones and my fingers immediately came to life, pounding out the roughest of rough outlines for an article I wanted to write. While I know I have a lot of fleshing out to do to the outline, I had something with which to work. I was giddy as I typed.
I wanted to check my email, maybe surf the net–I tether my iPhone to my laptop–but I refrained. The time spent on the train is for writing. No for checking email. Not for catching up with friends and family on Facebook. (Though I reserve the right to Tweet about anything of interests while on my travels.) I want to spend the time on the train doing what I have been complaining that I didn’t get enough time to do during those 45 or so minutes, write.