Likely Normal

The office used to be a battlefield of whispered gossip and passive-aggressive Post-it notes, but thanks to digital technology, workplace politics has evolved into a 24/7 psychological thriller where everyone is both the villain and the victim. Messaging apps like Slack and Teams have turned professional interactions into a minefield of tone-deaf emojis, delayed read receipts, and the ever-terrifying “typing…” notification that lingers just long enough to make you question every life choice that led to this moment.

Nothing captures the modern workplace like the message reply hierarchy. A simple got it. can be interpreted as anything from “I acknowledge this information” to “I will now spend my lunch break plotting your demise.” Meanwhile, the thumbs-up reaction has become the digital equivalent of a dismissive eye roll—a way to end a conversation while silently conveying “This is stupid, but I’m paid to pretend otherwise.” And let’s not forget the strategic use of statuses—setting yourself to “Away” during a heated debate is the professional version of “New phone, who dis?”

Then there’s meeting chat, the shadow government of office politics. While the boss drones on about synergy, the real conversation is happening in the sidebar, where coworkers dissect the presentation with the ruthlessness of a Yelp review. One wrong screenshot, though, and suddenly your “LOL this graph is made up” message is broadcast to the entire company, turning you into the sacrificial lamb of corporate transparency.

The worst offenders? Ambiguous group chats. Was that last message sarcastic? Was the silence after your question intentional? Did Karen actually not see your message, or is she just digitally ghosting you like a bad Tinder date? The anxiety never ends.