Riding the gravy train again (with thanks to stevegreen)

By now, I think the people in the flat above me are either vampires or work night shifts, because for the past three days, I've been hearing an alarm clock rinring at around ten-ish, whereupon the light gets turned on above my living room, and noises start.

The first week of commuting to Bisto has made it crystal clear that I want to move there. It's not just the commute, but more on Bisto tomorrow, after some rest. And therein lies the problem. In the morning, it's not that bad, I run on automatic for most of the time, really waking up somewhere on the Northern line and having a sort of early morning half-nap on the Stansted Express. In fact, travelling outward is quite beautiful, makes a change from the cityscape.
Going home, however, seems to take twice as long as going to the office, it's dark when I reach London, and by the time I reach London Bridge and half the trains aren't running, I just want to be home, unsure if I am more hungry or sleepy.
I know I shouldn't complain (much), I know people do this each day the other way round - I am lucky as I travel against the stream, and always get a seat on the train - but I am looking foward to living in Bisto.

On the other hand, I get 90 minutes of reading time each day.