Nobody is saying that we should expect our jobs to fill us with orgasmic ecstasy every minute we're on the clock; we're saying that if every day you come home from your job and think about ramming an icepick up your nose, then this is just possibly a sign it's a time to get a resume together.
I'm tired of the argument made implicitly all the time -- and explicitly on occasion -- that even if a job fills you with suicidal misery every day, if you're making enough to cover all your living expenses plus pay for the alcohol and pills to numb the pain, then by God you should just count yourself lucky, sit down and shut up. A given percentage of the workforce may indeed always hate their job -- but no, in fact, I do not believe that the economy will collapse if that percentage decreases.
I'm tired of the argument made implicitly all the time -- and explicitly on occasion -- that even if a job fills you with suicidal misery every day, if you're making enough to cover all your living expenses plus pay for the alcohol and pills to numb the pain, then by God you should just count yourself lucky, sit down and shut up. A given percentage of the workforce may indeed always hate their job -- but no, in fact, I do not believe that the economy will collapse if that percentage decreases.