If you are wondering how best to become more efficient with your day, start working full time. Take it from me, the 15 minutes you have here and the 25 you have there will start to look like golden windows of opportunity that must be immediately seized for fear of never having any time ever again.

It has been a struggle to accommodate to this change in my life—lord knows studenthood didn’t prepare me for it—and I’ve had to compensate by upping my organisational skills from barely existent to more or less reasonable. And, because history dictates that Rachael+List=OrganisedAndProductive, whereas Rachael-List=CouchPotato, I decided to do what I do best and compiled a list of all the things that I wish I had more time for in order of importance. (This is 100% the truth—I have an actual paper list I carry around with me).

This list includes, but is not limited to: reading The Economist, finding interesting articles on Twitter, learning Italian, writing blog posts and calling my parents.

You may notice, being book bloggers, that general reading is not on this list. That’s because, these days, recreational reading has its own allocated golden window from 8.05am until 8.45am. I am of course talking about my journey to work.

Let me make something clear. I am a transit snob and I do not like the bus. Back when I was younger, I went to a school that was relatively far from where I lived. It turned out that it was quicker and easier to catch the train, and so I spent my school days travelling alongside elegantly suited-up professionals commuting into Liverpool city centre. As a result of this, whenever I found myself forced to catch a bus, I was truly appalled. I regularly made the mortifying mistake of assuming that walking down the isle would be a sturdy, risk-free endeavour; the driver would then make a sharp turn, catapulting me into the lap of a disgruntled stranger. You’d think I’d have learnt my lesson the first time around, but it still happens today.

People are generally a little bit louder and a little bit grosser on the bus; this is a pattern that tends to worsen as the day goes on. Last week, I had to move seats because the man who sat down in front of me smelled so bad. The week before, I caught the 11B from the North East into Downtown Minneapolis, and the man sitting in front of me sang the whole time.

Credit to him, he had a very lovely voice. But still. Time and a place, man.

Despite my stubborn dislike for the entire mode of transport, however, my bus journey is now precious to me. This is because it is the only immovable period of time that I devote to reading. It has therefore become a point in the day that I genuinely look forward to. Yes, it often takes me three weeks to finish a novel and yes, people do sometimes break into song and kill my vibe—but all in all, this commute may be the only reason I am still managing to commit any time at all to reading amongst my newly busy schedule.

God bless the bus!

…If only writing a blog post was as achievable with my Mac perched on my lap of a morning.

Dear Book Bloggers, does anyone else need such a rigid structure in order to squeeze in half an hour of priceless reading time, or am I just transitioning from student to adult life with spectacular difficulty? Advice is as golden as my time on the bus at this stage!

Good luck to all and happy reading xoxo

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