I've worked in all kinds of places and various sizes of offices in the last 10 years. For the most part, what I actually do as work is irrelevant. I go to work and the work gets done. But the psychology of the place is a constant. Something to deal and work with. If the right person isn't massaged correctly, getting regular work done can become a problem. It doesn't matter what the size of the office or what kind of work is done--the psychological makeup of the office is really what pushes and pulls everything. A constant monster ready to drive everyone crazy.

A little over a year ago, I moved from a bustling newspaper office of around 50 people to a more laid back--and smaller--office. Deadlines are flexible and the chance that there is something so important that everyone has to focus and rush is quite rare. There are, at most, 15 people working on various things in the office. Not as much of a chance to ignore people even if you might want to. When the office is more of an extended family than a huge production chain, everyone has a personal relationship with everyone else. And sometimes these relationships turn into battle lines, cliques or coups.

Last summer, when my company did most of its work last year, four of us had a bit of a clique going. Not on purpose, but more because we worked out of the same room most of the time so our schedules of work and break were usually the same. Our power and influence was small. The greatest thing we controlled was where we were going to eat lunch. Because we were an instant group, we pretty much could control where, when and how long lunch was going to be. Other than that, well, we were on the bottom of the totem pole. What we thought about the company could be relegated to the trivial box because we held no power positions at all.

The group dissolved when the room we spent most of our time in was split apart. My office roommate was given his own office (which meant I got my own as well--for a month or so at least), and he broke our coalition by pissing off pretty much everyone in the office. The extent of our power (where to go for lunch) was splintered even more until our helpers (and partners in crime) left for school after their summer internships were done.

More than six months later, a new dynamic has risen, threatening to blow apart an office relationship that took a few months to get back to normal after the busy summer.

A couple of people were hired after our busy summer, adding new faces and attitudes to our small clan. One hire was of a person who does the same job as I do--another addition to the loose coalition the workers of my ilk have. But we are not in power positions--we are regularly called "kids" by everyone in upper management and most of our concerns are dismissed because, well, we're kids and they (everyone else) have the experience of time.

The other hire was an upper management type and, even though she is only a few years older than I am, her concerns, needs and aspirations are taken seriously. This, in itself, wouldn't bother me. I see most of the people above me taking on an incredible amount of (mostly self-imposed) stress, I guess because, like coffee, this pushes them to get their work done. My style is laid back and slacker-like. While I do spend a bit of time messing around (Napster is a constant distraction), I still get all my work done from day to day. And usually it's done hours before the day itself is ended and I can leave.

Our new addition to upper management, however, has created a coalition with our second in command. Which means that two people, in very influential positions in the company, can bully the rest of us. I usually try to talk to them one at a time, which is the only way I can get my words heard. If either of their names comes up to either of them, they will defend their collective position until I submit, apologize and leave the room.

Friday night, after an incredibly contentious week, a few of us went out drinking. It turned into three and a half hours of bitching about the situation at work. And while this kind of thing is cathartic (everyone gets their problems aired), it still doesn't fix our situation because the "problem" wasn't with us. They were spending a late night at the office together.

I've never watched Survivor, but I understand the concept. Because the same thing happens at any work place. The continual survivor of the fittest. Power structures are formed, coalitions get together and sooner or later, all hell breaks loose. There is no million dollar pot to split, just our continued sanity at work. And because of the way work places are today (for the most part, the biggest concern is personal--how much can I stick my neck out before it gets cut off), getting everyone together (there are no unions in my line of work) is hard. No one has the same aspirations as everyone else--there are no common goals except to keep getting paid.

So wither the new wrinkle in the work space time continuum? We must repair the breach lest the ship falls into the ever-widening crack to be lost in a far away galaxy throughout eternity. Of course, the size and depth of the crack is under debate and possible fixes are being discussed in committee. By the time someone buys the super glue, however, we may have already fallen through the wormhole.

Matt Worley gets paid too much to do his job, but so does everyone else he works with. Meaning, of course, that he is underpaid in a relative sense.