I think I found the real reasons I had such a good time in London. And they are both terrible.

1. Total lack of responsibility: all I had to care about is doing a good job at work. None of the multitudes of daily cares here mattered.

2. 15 minute commute to my dodgy but clean hotel. 4 tube stops. I used to have that at one point here when I lived alone, and that was one of the things that made me happy. From last October onwards I waste 2.5 hours a day on commuting – squished on the train and not biking.
And I can’t really work from home at this job either.

They are terrible because I see that nothing can be done, and I will continue to be unhappy. Also, I still have friends in London who will make the time for me, and here I don’t anymore – or rather we are all so busy and now live so far away from one another that scheduling anything to do together proved to be downright impossible.

Is this what the rest of my life going to be like?