Train in Vain

I am now a commuter.

This means I now have to begin wild, loveless sex-a-thons with secretaries in my office and stumble into one one-sided love affair after another with attractive women I meet on the train whilst my wife cooks and cleans for me and looks after my children on a faceless street in the 'burbs'.

No, wait, that's Mad Men. Sorry I was getting mixed up between my real life and my telly life again. You should see the terrible scrapes I get myself into when I mix up real life with Game of Thrones telly life.

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. On a train. Coming home from work. Marvelling at the view and hee-heeing at my former getting-home-from-work life that in involved a lot more traffic and swearing.

Then I realised I was on the wrong fecking train. 90 mins later and I finally get home. A little less smug than when I started out, but as EVERYBODY I've spoken to about this (including the kindly train lady) says: at least I won't make that mistake again.

Oh but I will, won't I?