I don't like reading on buses, the jitters of the road meet the jigger of my grip and the eyes get so very, very lazy and just end up fixed on the travel outside.
I wonder if Alex Ferguson has ever seen an episode of Entourage.
I wonder if Ryan Tubridy has ever forgotten to pay for a Mars Bar.
I wonder if Bono has ever been to Doyle's.
I wonder if I've already met the next new person, or if there might even be a next new person.
I wonder what will happen if the person behind me snots in my ear just one more time.
I wonder if anyone I know is in Neary's, or en route to Neary's, right this minute.
I wonder about Connie McEldowney, only I wonder about the girl whose name isn't that, and I wonder would it seem weird to get in touch.
I wonder what my sister Elmo would say if she ever had occasion to meet Stevie Wonder.
I wonder what I'd cook on Masterchef, and how scathing the comments would be.
I think about my grandmother for no special reason, and then Finghín.
I wonder what the most disgusting combination of two soft drinks might be, and if Rafael Benitez ever goes to the cinema during the day.
I wonder about another date slipping away into memory, where it likely will stay.
I give some consideration to buying crisps on the 15 minute break in Mountrath, before realising we've already stopped there.
I notice there's a person sitting next to me, a young lad with a perm for all the world.
I think about the office, a little bit, and wonder who's sitting at my computer looking at Facebook.
I remember a funny line about Brooklyn workers and paychecks.
I listen to the last three songs lined up on the iPod - Michael Nyman and Joy Division and something that isn't Shakira.
I ding that bell.