But hey - at least you get to tell everyone you work in the games industry, and can laugh along with them as you become the butt of everyone's jokes at parties and family gatherings.
With that in mind, just what sort of roles are available to those who wish to work in gaming? We've compiled a list of some of the jobs you might choose to aim for.
An entry-level position for many who wish to get into the industry, the games tester is one of the most poorly-paid and demeaning jobs in the developed world, second only to being the man who cleans out Gerard Depardieu's lunch trough.
Games testers are required to be in the office at 4am every morning, rarely getting to leave until gone midnight. Once they arrive for the day, they are forced at spear-point to descend into shallow mudpits, and prevented from escaping by a burly mute in a vinyl lamprey costume, who is known as Jambo Pelm.
The only thing games testers are given to eat from dawn to dusk - to sustain them through those relentless and gruelling hours of testing - is a handful of small, brittle fossils, wrapped in parma ham, and drizzled with a mysterious, sour oil. Should they not finish their meal (which is served to them on a dirty polystyrene ceiling tile) they will be stripped semi-nuddy, dragged into the middle of the nearest bluebell glade, and ridiculed by a coterie of their peers.
Potentially the most destabilising aspect of being a games tester is the constant threat from your bosses of "Bronk's arrival", if you fail to perform your role adequately. Who or what Bronk is will never be explained, but it shall be heavily implied that the arrival of Bronk is something to be feared. "Do your job good or you'll regret it bad when Bronk arrives" is a sign that hangs in the foyer of most games development studios.
With those sorts of working conditions, it is little wonder that so many games are released full of bugs.
For many young gamers, being a journalist seems like a dream job - getting to play games all day, and being paid to give your opinions, without needing any actual convictions, or any particular grasp of written English. Regrettably, the reality is very different.
Most games journalists live on a constant knife edge, being required to get the balance between appearing independent and principled, while not upsetting too many apple carts.
Giving a major game a low review score can result in devastating retribution by PR people - it is not uncommon for games journalists to be dragged from their beds, bundled into the back of an unmarked van, and driven to a remote warehouse, where they will be flagellated by a cackling, pilled-up twerp, armed with a length of knotted twine. Others have been shouldered into alleyways, and been furiously towelled off using a nylon swatch.
Many see public relations as a glamorous profession, but when it comes to games industry PR, glamour rarely comes into it.
Professional games PR people are forced to travel door-to-door, extolling the virtues of the gaming they so hate to anyone who doesn't immediately slam their door shut. Many are so worn down by the constant rejection that they have taken to hissing their message through letterboxes and gaps in french doors, while weeping openly.
In extreme cases, they've been known to scrawl gaming propaganda on their naked torsos, and press them desperately against windows, whilst the people within attempt to eat their dinners, or wash their dogs. For many, this has resulted in literally pushing their internal organs past their spines, causing their coccyx to distend in a condition known as "PR pot back".
For some, being employed within the games industry is just too much, so they seek to take an independent route, producing games without having a boss, Jambo Pelm, or Bronk, belching clouds of moist carbon dioxide down their napes. Being self-employed may appear to be a life of leisure - take holidays when you want, choose your own hours - but in truth, it is perhaps more stressful than any other gaming role.
Most independent games developers choose to work on projects which are personal to them in some way - digging deep into their broken souls to dredge up their most traumatic memories, for the purposes of turning them into a cutesy platform game, or bleak choose-your-own-adventure. This has resulted in titles such as I Wet Myself At School Quest, Super Daddy Never Loved Me Brothers, and Penis: Penis-Penis.
Unfortunately, few of these games are the sorts of things anybody in their right mind would want to play, which means that years of development rarely results in a big pay day. By the time most independent games are released, their developers have been reduced to selling parts of their body to German cannibals (starting with their hair, fingernails and teeth - which are typically used as ingredients in aphrodisiac casseroles during abominable Teutonic sex rituals).
As most of us are aware, the majority of games developers traditionally employ someone to dress as the president of Uganda, Yoweri Museveni.
The Office Yoweri is typically suspended from ceilings via a special harness and track system, pulling himself around the office to inspire workers with quotes from the real-life Museveni: "When I was the minister of Defence in 1979/80, my in-laws used to bring me milk and flour from Buhweju - that was my food since the salary was not enough to buy food in Kampala"; "Africa is tired of leaders who cling to power against the wishes of the masses"; "Politicians here in Africa do not have a good reputation".
To counterbalance Museveni's homophobia - in 2014, when asked if he disliked homosexuals, he responded by saying "I never knew what they were doing, but I've been told recently that what they do is terrible, disgusting." - the Office Yoweri must intermittently quote articles from the Ugandan gay rights activist John "Longjones" Abdallah Wambere.