On the last day at work

Here I am, in my cubicle. The next 3-4 hours will be my last here. No more braving the immensely insane and kiasu Bayan Lepas traffic. No more traversing the car park on tip toes and with heart jumping out of throat because of my fear of my many-legged friends. No more riding the slowest lift in the world. No more walking four steps to the left and 45 to the right to head to the pantry for my morning drink. No more waving my cigarette box at my colleagues through their peep hole to invite them for a smoke. No more FrameMaker (for the time, anyway). No more trying to avoid being seen after returning late from lunch.

I've had a great time working at A company. I honestly do feel like I've been spoilt. Although three years hasn't been that very long, for a person who not-too-recently realized that she actually quite loves routine and of late (or many all along) has been having problems accepting change, I'm actually feeling pretty sad. The older I get...

But life must go on. I believe I'll always remember my first job. The click-clacking of keyboards. Chatter in Mandarin from afar. And colleagues who became friends.