The second day at my cubicle and I realised that I didn't even notice the sounds of cars on the expressway, which was almost the first thing I noticed when I sat down a day ago. And I think I should stop treating the long stretch of corridor from my cubicle to the toilet as a runway and thinking that I am a plane - it isn't going to do me any good running down and up all the time each time I visit the toilet (in fact visiting the toilet now is twice as far as it used to be). From a corner in my first job, I had a rather public second cubicle (and love it despite taking a while to get pass the loneliness bit) and now I am back to a corner. The last corner down the floor in fact - ah.

So I made the final move down one floor, to a new team, to a new cubicle, to a new place. I have a neighbour next to me now, I don't sit by the window (and so Hello Kitty Junior is further from my sight) and the temperature is warmer now.

It was such a happy and laughable moving time today when folks helped me - pulling my whole drawer down one floor, with each flipping open while pushing the empty one up, and then a whole trolley of stuff like those of a beggar of sort, holding on the umbrella because it gets in the way when it comes to doors. Maybe because I know if it ends it will end anyway and there might not be much time before that, or because I know they are a call/ email away, it wasn't too sad. I mean, come on, this isn't my first move. No matter how much you like something, when distance comes into play, many things could result - and I totally witnessed that. Or maybe because I know I have a team now, so going to a new place isn't as scarier.

But anyhow, I still miss stopping by for a chat on my way to the toilet/pantry, stopping by for a chat while we worked through the nights, the little random chats somewhere else, the lunches, the talks.

Thank you for being there for me, even if the last was the last. Thank you for being there for me. And I, at this point, sincerely will miss you.

It was like a move again. The first moment when I heard of the date, I felt sad that I have to move from where I am seated now. It wasn't too long ago that I got familiar with the peers around me, and the place that even though I stayed for 10 months, I've spent lots of time over there.

But the move will happen sooner or later, so I supposed if I even put in some efforts, I can still hold onto those important-s. And I did feel that little surge of excitement.

And definitely to give thanks to all the good things and people, all the night chats, quick lunches, stop-by chats, all the ad-hocs we had, all the companion, all the possible fun things squeeze out from the busy times, and all the things I missed out.

I have been thinking of this place too much. I think in fact more than thinking about summers in Paris, which I always think about during my swims. Garmisch Partenkirchen or easier known as GAP.

I decided not to visit it when I was planning for a mountain visit August last year, because I was afraid of disappointments. I was at GAP for only 6 hours three years ago, jus enough time for a short ride. The image I remembered of the place - flat land surrounded by grasses, mountains and bare roads that you have no way of knowing where is where, little wooden houses with balconies decorated with pretty flowers - might not be really how GAP is. Judging by how I always felt that food in my memories tasted better than what I had now, I thought perhaps I remembered it to be more pretty than it really was. In the end I decided to spend more time in France and went to Chamonix instead.

But I know it is one place I still want to visit again (not forgetting Karin and Peter, whom I still write to), because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Perhaps I will be disappointed no matter when I visit, so why not jus visit again!

So till when I am back there again.

In fact, the picture that I wanted to paint is that image I had when leaving GAP.

I probably wouldn't be visiting Paris or anywhere near this year, I supposed. But I think about summers all the time. The summers I knew, the summers I was there, the summers I read in books, the summers when ice melted and ski resorts were green, the summers when life is life, the summers when days were still too cold for me. The Norwegian fjords, the Sweden mountains, the wet Venice, or the land full of beaches.

Chinese New Year came and left soon again, but the break meant there was much more work for the remaining week. Despite the 1 Feb handover date for most of my current duties, there are more to work on for the remaining ones. It didn't help that there were not much matured adults around.

So the only things nice about this - great family time and the nostalgia food on Day 2 that I only eat once a year now compared to when I was being babysit.

So exhausted that I didn't even have the motivation to think about, let alone plan for, a holiday for the year. But the intensity of things meant it's time for me to move to a new place. Hopefully it meant more good things to come along.