The Lonely Commuter

Can you feel really alone when you're squished in like a sardine with thousands of other people?
In the Tube at the evening rush.
A huge crush. 'Cause my second train took about 15 minutes to come -- an eternity at that time -- and the people just stacked up a dozen deep waiting.
And then it came, packed to the sides with commuters.
Took more than an hour to get home.
It's a rickety old Tube line we're on. Everyone in London knows it.
Whew.
Is this my life now?
That's the end of my two days work, which this evening, as I waited on the cold platform, I was quite glad about.
But, I'm not working again until the last two days of next week, which is awhile away.
Financially. And otherwise.
I'll do too much housework in the meantime, which seems like a real waste of my life.
But someone's gotta do it. And who feels like paying for it now.
I could start on all the things I want to do with the rest of my life, of course.
What were they again?
Uh oh. They seem big. How do I get started?
I can write more to you, of course.
But you never write back.
So what is the point?