I love the train commute. It seems like a huge waste of time but in my experience it's not; it creates this space instead where you have nothing that you're supposed to be doing (except get from here to there, which is already happening with no effort on your part) so you can do anything you want -- well, anything that can be done on a train -- read, write rambling diaries, plot the revolution ...
Use your train time to whip that notebook into submission. What are your stories about? You don't have to answer that, but here's my unsolicited arrogant fiction advice: stories should be About something (that is, not just a bunch of things that happen to people who don't really exist) but should not necessarily have a Message; that's where passion sans preachiness comes from.
"If a tree is impetuous in the woods, does it make a sound?" -- aethucyn
I imagine someone, somewhere has done a study on how these social memes are transmitted in such transient groups, but I can't be arsed to find it. Of course, the other option is just that none of us are that special, and the different generations repeat ourselves spontaneously, but I'm practically positive all of us remember precisely how original we all knew we were at eighteen.
Although this is funny, we were both quite subdued after he shared it. Will I have a similar revelation in twenty years time, and comment that my midlife crisis, that seemed so spontaneous and free at the time, was equally fore-ordained?