The powers that be at Broderbund have decreed that Sensei (Tomi, Steve, Loring, Eric, Mike, and Robert S.), David Snider, Corey and I are all to be packed off from our present comfortable offices to a rathole on the second floor of 47 Paul. Tomi, Corey and I went there yesterday to check the place out. I’m seriously considering working from home.
The vibe at work has been kind of odd lately anyway. Doug is wrapped up in taking the company public, and the new people he’s hiring have no interest in games – or in software, for that matter. There’s really no reason for me to go into the office any more, except for cameraderie. I could always visit if I get lonely.
“This is a BAD day for you not to be at Broderbund, believe me. ‘Bye.”
Not the message you want to find on your answering machine when you get home at 5 p.m. after having taken the day off to play hookey and explore Mt. Tam.
I called Corey back. He told me we’d been evicted from our office and our stuff transferred to the dingy, unpainted, windowless attic of 47 Paul Drive. Corey was at the bottom of the deepest depression I’d ever seen him, and was ready to move back home.
Tomi had a plan. “You’ve got to get the small room,” she said. “It’s got windows and ventilation. It’ll be much better.”
“Corey said he already asked Adaire about that and she said…”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. If I were you, I’d go into work early tomorrow morning and move both your desks and all your stuff into that room.”
I called Corey back and told him the plan. He was terrified, but we did it that night, feeling like a pair of burglars.
I arrived at work to find Adaire furious. It seems they’d been planning to paint the room that day, and Corey and I, by moving in our furniture, had made it impossible for the painters to work. So we moved it all into the middle of the room and threw a tarp over it. We had to buy the tarp ourselves at the local hardware store, because the painters didn’t have one.
In the past three weeks I’ve put in the equivalent of maybe one full eight-hour day on Baghdad. I’m starting to feel guilty about it.
My reluctance to actually sit down in the new office and work on the damn game is so strong, I’ve been procrastinating by doing everything else under the sun I’ve been putting off since 1986. Even my taxes.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t get into work until three, because sometime early this morning they had a little accident at the Fairchild plant next door to Broderbund and spilled some hydrochloric acid. They evacuated the whole industrial park for a few hours. They were going to shut down the freeway, but luckily the wind was blowing in the other direction – ours. My lungs actually do feel kind of irritated.
Sensei moved in yesterday. Six desks: Eric, Loring, Tomi, Steve, Mike and Ty now occupy the big outer room. Overnight, the place has been transformed from an attic into an office. Seeing it gave me this incredible urge to tidy up the small room – the one Corey, Cathryn Mataga and I share – but I stifled it. Instead, I put in my first real day of work in weeks, and maybe my second since Corey and I got kicked out of our old office.