The Office

My favorite TV show is The Office. And honestly? I don’t just watch The Office — I spiritually inhabit it. I’ve probably rewatched it so many times that my brain now thinks in Dundie Awards and awkward conference room meetings.

There’s something comforting about knowing no matter how bad your workday is going, at least you didn’t accidentally set the office on fire by putting your lunch in the toaster oven like poor Ryan. At least your boss isn’t doing parkour off your desk yelling “EXTREME!” (Although, depending on your manager, maybe this hits a little too close to home.)

Michael Scott? A national treasure and a walking HR violation. He’s the king of unfiltered chaos, the kind of guy who thinks “That’s what she said” is the peak of comedy — and, let’s be honest, he’s not entirely wrong. Every time I watch him declare bankruptcy by screaming “I DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!” I wonder how any of us are actually functioning adults.

Dwight Schrute is the coworker you dread being paired with on a project but also the one you secretly want as your emergency contact. Who else would survive an office fire drill involving real flames, pepper spray, and a CPR dummy with its face cut off? That’s the kind of energy I aspire to bring to team-building exercises.

Jim Halpert taught us the art of the camera stare — that blank, slightly judging look you give when your coworker explains for the fifth time why their spreadsheet won’t open. Every time I get ghosted by a recruiter, I look directly at my webcam like Jim, waiting for the documentary crew to catch my despair.

Pam? Queen of quiet rebellion and the champion of awkward yet wholesome side-eye. We watched her go from receptionist to artist to co-owner of a home mural business, all while dealing with Michael’s daily weirdness and Dwight’s beet farm updates.

Stanley? The man lives for pretzel day and crossword puzzles, basically my spirit animal. He’s taught us all that not every meeting deserves our full attention and that sometimes, your only goal at work is to avoid talking to people.

Kevin? Oh, sweet Kevin. If dropping an entire pot of chili on the office carpet isn’t the purest metaphor for corporate life, I don’t know what is.

Angela? Queen of judgment, cats, and passive-aggressive party planning. She’s the embodiment of that one coworker who sends “gentle reminder” emails with a smiley face that feels like a personal attack.

And Creed… we don’t even know what Creed does, and that’s exactly the energy I want for the rest of my career. Just showing up mysteriously, collecting a paycheck, occasionally selling fake IDs, and disappearing into the night.

Watching The Office feels like therapy, but cheaper and with better one-liners. You see your entire professional life reflected back at you in the most hilariously tragic ways possible.

So yes, I’ll keep rewatching The Office until Netflix takes it away again and we all riot in the virtual parking lot. I’ll keep quoting Michael’s wisdom (“I am Beyoncé, always”) and using Jim’s eye rolls as my personal communication style.

Because at the end of the day, if you can’t laugh at work, you’ll end up sobbing into your ergonomic keyboard. And I’d rather quote “Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.” on repeat than explain synergy for the millionth time.

Legend status: confirmed. Scott’s Tots level loyalty.