My Fish Tank

In case you’re wondering about how many fishes I have as pets, I have none. My understanding of fishes is limited to the fact that a goldfish is expensive and hard to keep, kois are often depicted in oil paintings (perhaps it’s the calming effect on those who view the paintings) and one of the best animation ever produced is ‘Finding Nemo’. Oh, and my ability to identify the types of fishes is dependent upon the fishes that my mum buys from the wet market. Apart from the above, I am, in my opinion, undependable in keeping those fin-e creatures alive.

‘Fish Tank’ is my own personal term used for a little corner others refer to as my office room since April 2008. And without me realizing it, I’ve spent almost 2 years working in the confines of the Fish Tank. Unlike other rooms in my office, Fish Tank has no windows. In fact, it is a room that is built in the inner part of the building. Because of that, I was never able to see whether the day is shining brightly or hear heavy rain slamming against the windows. Instead, I have to rely on my colleagues to inform me of the bad weather or me coming to my senses when Fish Tank suddenly feels super-cold.

How Fish Tank looks like. I've packed most of the stuff by now, hence the 'less messy' look =p

Yet, come April 9 2010, I would have to part ways with Fish Tank. The legal firm which I’m working with will be moving to our new office premises where my new room is waiting. For someone who’s gotten used to Fish Tank (well, I’ve to admit that I felt claustrophobic during the first few months in Fish Tank. I was always thinking ‘What?! No windows?!’) and its err…’enviable’ position (I shall not disclose anything more), my new room is very much different.

From Fish Tank to a room that has floor-ceiling windows, that is certainly a big change. With my new room, I can actually view my surroundings (ok, the view’s is only so-so. Unless of course, you find that facing high-rise apartments and a lone water tank by the sidelines are appealing). Yet, I become surprisingly sad at the sight of boxes stacked neatly along the walls of Fish Tank. The boxes surely meant that our parting is getting closer and the moment I’ve moved to the new room, Fish Tank will be demolished.

Whether I like it or not, Fish Tank witnessed my infant years in surviving the corners and bends of private practice. The only thing that the new room has in common with Fish Tank is again, its errr…’enviable’ position. And that is a story in its own right. Suffice to say, the saying ‘Chinese walls’ remains checked and guarded.

For now, it’s me bidding adieu to my home away from home. Fish Tank, I’m sorry for not giving you a better name and thanks for the company!