Trains. . .

Lately, it’s been so busy that the only time I’ve had to write anything other than work emails is on the train home from work. The commute only lasts 27 minutes, and I usually use the time as a time-out: a short timespan where I can checkout and read, sleep, and hope I don’t drool on myself in a crowed train, or just sit and do nothing, should my inclinations be so inclined.  It’s my 27 minutes of obligation-less passage, and because of this feature I thought tasking writing on my commute, squeezing out productivity by squeezing in words on my iPhone’s small LCD screen, would become cumbersome due to being required. To my surprise, I was wrong.  

On two occasions during the past week, I wrote notes/ideas on the male and female protagonists in my untitled Sanne project. Both times, I was struck by how much thinking and writing on the project overcame my post-work fatigue, invigorating my intellect, which caused for disappoint as the conductor announced that we were pulling into the station. Here, it was the obligation that revealed how much I enjoy writing and would miss it if it wasn’t structured into my daily life, instead of turning pleasure into a chore. 

So, the first couple of chapters of the untitled Sanne project should be posted by the end of the week.

Until next time.