Petty. Silly. Irresponsible. Selfish. Greedy. Infuriating. Untrustworthy. Hurtful-ladder-climbing-inconsiderate-meanies.

The things you learn about your coworkers, with the help of time and a keen ear and socializing (alcohol also helps on that last one).

These are smart people. Really. Also charming and personable and gracious, when they want to be. But then again, that is the danger of politics, isn't it? Everyone has charm coursing through their veins, available at a moment's notice, easy and seductive and oh-so-believable.

I tend to believe it. I want to. But there are truths undeniable that generally to reveal themselves when you spend 9 hours a day trapped in a too-small office. I like some of my coworkers more than others, and I trust some more than others. Though it is difficult to realize that they are not all going to be my lifelong friends, there is something to be said for getting to know a group of people so well. I know which person I would call if I ever got thrown in jail and needed bail (product of an actual hilarious conversation with my favorite person in the office). I know which one I would ask for advice about my uncertain future and which ones are almost certainly talking about me when I leave the room.

I'd like to tell them that I know these things. The whole Dilbert comic strip evolved out of that desire. Desperate workers trapped in cubicles absolutely live for the day when they get to burst as they are walking out on their last day and tell everyone in the office what kind of people they really are. Ooooh that would be good. What a delicious thought.

Not many people do it, and I won't either. I already know that. What I will do is hold my tongue, and shoot a knowing glance at my few allies in the office, and we'll have an unspoken little moment of mourning for the death of the righteous outburst dream.

But what a good dream.