I have a spare half an hour in which I’m being forced to wait around. There are free snacks, coffee and drinks on which to gorge, but I am still doing nothing for thirty whole minutes. Still, I am doing this on the LucasArts campus in San Francisco, so it’s not actually annoying me that much. Or: at all.
We should compare this situation to those of my jobs* in the past. Let’s see: at Argos the microwave was broken and I had to share a locker with a bloke who would never give me the key, meaning I had to wait until he needed to use it to grab my stuff. Also the job sucked balls.
At CEX I was asked to help a new store open, which involved staying in a hotel for a week and bossing newbies around. “Great!” I thought. Then I realised it was in Hull. I went anyway, as getting freebies from that job was a blood from a stone situation. The first night there I got food poisoning. I also had to pay for my own hotel, which wasn’t reimbursed to me until I threw a bit of a stez. And expenses only covered one bottle of wine, which was downright irritating.
So yeah, I’m fine waiting half an hour here. Plus writing this wasted some time.
*Haha, as if that should be plural.