The people. My department (or service line as they call them) was the largest. They used to huddle us in this open hall six sizes too small with a bench-table running all across the center and the edges, so we literally used to share everything. Made finding space a biatch if you come later than 6 in the morning, but it made it that much easier for us to get to know each other. I've met some brilliant minds there. People who sharpened me, and people who tested me and helped broaden my boundaries. Funny people. Happy people. Dissociable people. Sensitive people. According to the HR manual, its people are its most valuable resource. There I agree with them.
The freedom. You could almost never catch someone butting their nose into your business. As long as you were delivering when you were supposed to be, it mattered very little that you skipped the odd Monday. Or that you cut out early thrice every week. The times when you weren't on an assignment were really your own to a very large extent. It's how I survived two years having gone on leave only once, and even then it was forced leave. Here it also helped that we were so many and no one had a desk assigned to them, so to notice you're missing someone had to specifically be looking for you. As far as 9 to 5's go, I think external audit will be pretty hard to beat.
The attitude. You tell someone you're from a Big Four firm and immediately they shut up and pay attention! You're probably someone they wanna listen to. While you're on the client's turf you're a God. You're supposed to be the catch-all know-all who'll have the solution to all their problems. It works numbers on the self esteem. You're an outsider so the rules that bind everyone else don't really apply to you. You can walk up to anyone anytime and ask them anything and not fear intimidation because they're not really your boss. Plus there's that whole aura - We're the external auditors. It's like we're from the FBI, you know? Anything we want we get. [most times it wasn't like that, but every once in a while we used to hit pay dirt].
Traditionally, when someone is leaving there's an email we send out with our last words. Some people use a form letter, but I, being me, chose to do my own, on my own terms. In it, I wrote to the management that I would forever be grateful that they took the chance on me. And that part I meant. I was as green as they come when they hired me. They took a bet and it paid off, for them and for me. There's all these things I liked about the place, and then there's all these things that made me want to down the tools and walk away. It's duality, like Charles Dickens described in A Tale of Two Cities: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.
I used to dream about the day I'd leave. It would be dramatic, like something out of a movie. I'd be the last person, I'd take a long, pensive look around, then I'd breathe deep, shut off the lights and there would be complete darkness; and then I'd close the door behind me. And just like that, a chapter in my life would be closed. Well, it didn't happen exactly like that. I guess I'll have to save that for next time. Although the way I'm feeling about this new job, that won't be very soon.
END
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