Let's see...where to start.

How about... starting by telling you what I'm doing right now?

I'm currently seated at my ridiculously uncomfortable computer desk. The keyboard sits too low and I have to cross my legs underneath my chair. My posture, which isn't all that good to begin with, is even worse in this position. I try to stand up about every 20 minutes so that I don't form a blood-clot which could travel to my brain.

Yeah, I know: what are the chances of that happening, right? Probably slim, but why risk it?

OK. Where was I?

Oh yeah... my eyes hurt because the fluorescent bulb five feet above my head is out and I have to turn the brightness up on the computer in order to compensate for the lack of illumination. There's also another bulb which isn't working right either, although it's much more annoying. It occasionally flickers to life for a few seconds, like some dying insect. The strobe effect gives me a headache and mild seizures, much akin to watching an over-achieving Japanese animation video.

The rest of my surroundings are pretty non-descript. My chair, although high quality, doesn't fit my desk, thus making it more uncomfortable than sitting on the floor. My computer, which a decade ago was probably white, is now a shade of dull, nauseating yellow. I notice the computer of the associate who shares my office. It is a clean ivory color and the monitor is at least two inches larger than mine.

Of course, my "top-o-the-line" computer came with a set of Hi-Fi portable speakers! (Now if there was only a port to plug them into, I might be able to listen to music...!)

A Room with a View?

Did I mention that there are no windows in my office? That's because I'm on the "ground" floor. However, in this building, they call it the "ground" floor because that's actually where you are- the ground.

Basically, I'm in a basement. And like most basements, this one is cold. Damn cold. I'm talking "cut your 'Ton-ton' open with a lightsaber and climb in" cold (you remember that scene from The Empire Strikes Back, don't you?).

Apparently, in order to cool the upper parts of the building (which are exposed to sunlight), this floor has to be kept at a balmy 50 degrees.

There isn't a bathroom on this floor either. In fact, there isn't even a bathroom in this suite. It's outside in the lobby, a short 3-minute walk from my desk. A walk that I make at least a half dozen times a day, due to the fact that I need to drink a gallon of hot coffee in order to stay awake and keep my blood plasma from freezing.

The few things I do have include:

• an ample supply of paperclips
• a telephone which loses voicemails for no reason
• a rolodex with no names in it
• a calendar (year 2000)
• a holepuncher
• 4 unformatted disks.
• Oh, and some push pins, which I believe are used to gouge your eyes out when the flickering light drives you insane.

As if the working conditions aren't gruesome enough, I've come to accept the fact that I (along with the rest of the people on the "ground" floor) am a 'troll'. Yes, a 'troll'. A horrid, disgusting creature that eats children who cross over its bridge.

'Troll': a delightful nickname coined by Lance, the CAD guy upstairs who has the bay window in his office and thinks he's an aspiring comedian. "Funny, isn't he, folks? He'll be here all week." Ha-ha. Yippee.

So Why Am I Working At This Job?

Well, aside from the fact that I needed something, this is really going to be great experience. It's a temporary assignment which, when completed, will look excellent on my resume. The Ph.D. I'm working for is one of the leading minds in his field. (And the pay isn't too bad, either.)

Yet probably the most important lesson I can learn from this experience is the importance of every member of a company. From the top dog, to the 'trolls' in the basement.

When I think about the ranking of individuals in a corporate setting, the common analogy of a totem pole comes to mind. It's generally believed that you're better off the higher up the totem pole you go. But one thing holds true with every completed totem pole I've ever seen: there's always a bottom spot -- and it's always occupied. In fact, if the lowest spots on the pole were not occupied, the higher positions would have no place on which to stand.

A Lesson from the Totem Pole

Carving a totem pole begins at the top. The carver forms the image of the highest position first and then works his way down. The taller the pole, the more spots to be filled underneath. A pole isn't officially complete until all the spots have been carved. And like many a corporation, the totem is only as strong as its bottom position -- a position that usually gets overlooked by the casual observer.

At work, I am on the bottom of the totem pole right now. Yet as much as I like to complain about the working conditions down here, I have come to realize the importance of my position. Those of you who are on (or near) the bottoms of your respective totem poles should try to do likewise. For even though, to the casual observer, your toiling may go all but unnoticed, your job is important just the same -- and we should all treat our jobs as such.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't want to be in this position forever! I really want to be at the top of the totem some day. But there are a lot of spots to fill (important ones!) between here and there.

As I think about the journey ahead, I realize one very important thing: at this point, there's really no place to go but up.

Life Applications:

Where do you picture yourself on the totem pole of work/school/family/society?

How have others worked their way up (or down) the totem?

Are you still climbing, your eyes towards the top? Or have you resigned yourself to a lower spot?

If your goals are not career-oriented, then what is it that you are working towards?