Working in the last week before quitting is like running the last lap of 2.4km. The end is so near, yet so far.

My last week of work started today, seven days from Sunday to Sunday, with an off day on Saturday so that I can go for my class outing (if there is one) and a buffet dinner courtesy of my cousin. This last week will be a difficult one, because the auntie colleague will be taking leave from work from Wednesday afternoon onwards. Analysing the timetable Wednesday, Friday and Sunday will be my worst days of the week. Wednesday because I will be working with someone I don't like. Friday and Sunday because I am apparently the only one working the afternoon shift. Friday still looks okay because the manager is around until 6pm, while someone will be coming at 6pm. Sunday is the jia lat one because the manager does not work on Sundays.

The first day has passed. six more days to bear with.

I think the problem with running the last lap, especially for me, is that I keep thinking how long more do I have to run before I finally reach the finishing line, thus that makes time seem to move really slowly.

On a brighter note a thirty-year-old has applied for a job in the store. His application form is still lying on the table, but hopefully he will turn up very soon, learn the ropes quickly, and I can step down asap. Given his age I assume that he has already worked for many years and will have no problems getting the hang of things.

I'm very tired.