Every job I’ve had in my adult life has made everything else I do feel like work.
I have to work to make scheduled time for my passions and hobbies. I have to work to make scheduled time for my loved ones. I have to work to get home. I have to work to get to work.
I refuse to let a job kill me and I refuse to choose a job over things I care about more, but I am getting so disillusioned with my existence.
… Do I exist just to work?