Tried my hand at shifting from pleasure -- book reading -- to work on the ride to work. It was OK.
The other day I answered an ad from a writer looking for someone to review and comment on sample chapters from several novels he has written. For the first chapter, I spent an hour in a chair in the shade by my pool, clipboard in my lap, reading and making notes. I then spent a half-hour or so crafting my scathing review of his work. I didn't expect to be invited back, but the guy is apparently either a hopeless romantic about his work or a glutton for punishment.
He sent me another chapter and today I packed the clipboard and pen with my book and lunch in the backpack and set off on my hour-long (when I get the early train) trip to work.
Reading and scratching notes as the bus bumps along and starts and stops is no more difficult than just reading. Today it also helped that this chapter, which is from a different book than the first, is much more interesting and better written.
Now if I could get, say, two chapters a week, I could turn this bus riding into a profit center.