The clock is every working man's worst enemy. It doesn't move when you want it to, and it moves too fast when you are too distracted to notice or care. Wage jobs are contingent upon racking up hours, so the game is quantity over quality, so the goal is always ignore the clock for as long as possible, just stay occupied. In this sense, work sounds a whole lot like prison, the only difference being that in prison, room and board is free, as is the gym membership and cable TV. Rod Stewart sang, "Young hearts be free tonight, time is on your side." Sounds like the words of someone whose never had a real job (something to be envious of).
Work is not for the flakes amongst us. Laidback easy-goers have a hard time pulling up the bootstraps and making themselves available for a series of time slots they are not in control of. It is a nice idea to "make your own hours" as some of those dime a dozen pyramid schemes promise, but realistically it's impractical to expect a decent (i.e. survivable) amount of money when there are no contracted guarantees. The safest way to make money is to put in the time as it is mapped out prior, though it is never the most ideal. It is no real surprise that people with careers and full-time jobs are also the most likely to take the plunge into starting a family; they are no stranger to dedication. Also, it helps that the job can afford the house and the engagement ring. Such a tragedy that these often be the deciding factors in a supposedly love-based relationship.
A job can be a very fantastical place (go figure), even while existing in the real world. In it, people are constantly playing "pretend": pretending they like a job they actually hate, pretending they are not miserable and smiling for any reason other than company policy, pretending they never get sick like a true human being as they are expected to be at every scheduled shift 5 days a week, pretending the monthly rent isn't the one thing hold them back from making a colorful presentation prior to a swift termination/resignation. So when hopeful kids are told by their parents that it's hard to make a living as an actor, it's really very easy if you simply take those skills off the stage and put them behind a waitress's apron.
There's nothing worse than working for money you don't see before it goes straight into and envelope and off to a landlord. It is the most literal form of working for basic survival, working to live and not the other way around. At least the occasional splurge reminds you that you do earn an income (but I guess that's what credit card debt is for, so thinks a good, irresponsible portion of the country), but when a check buys only things you need more than want, you wonder if you could just as easily become a nomadic hunter/gatherer and skip the middleground. The best instance of the divine cyclical comedy that is life is when you work to feed others, as say a grocer, cook, or waitress, and only turn around to transfrom the deeds into your own ability to eat. Worse: a bed and breakfast. Why not, then, just live at work and save the commute?
Everyone is a morning person when they need to keep their job, though in actuality a real "morning person" is someone with the wherewithal to get an efficient night's sleep in time for the work shift, and they likely have years of practice in that field. Anyone transitioning from student life, living at home, to work life, early mornings and all, must face a challenge in and of itself: being forced to wake up for something they depend on. No more putzing around, deliberating through a day of self-involvement, you have to be somewhere at oh-something-hundred hours. It's a definite skill to shut off that lazy impulse completely, sleeping a single-digit number of hours, and those who can do it survive.
There's a reason shows like Breaking Bad and movies like Scarface are so popular amongst the workforce: they are about breaking off the track of society and taking the easy route. Who wouldn't love to have enough money to where you can pursue yourself for a change, or better yet, just sit on your ass and do nothing (think Ron Livingston's neighbor from Office Space...or just about any free-loader on welfare). Instead, a job hardly affords the ability to collect enough beyond the present, even with faulty retirement plans, to where you can't stop grinding away until the light finally escapes your eyes. With any luck you do enjoy your time on the clock, or at least can make the best of it, otherwise a good part of your life is spend escaping from the worst.
Every job requires a form of submission, a slavery of sorts. Even business owners have to respect government mandates and codes as well as realize they do in fact have a boss themselves, the customer/client. Without them, they'd have no business, no source of money, and that's just bad for business to have no business. Anyone lower down on the totem pole, even if given any authority, has a boss and carries out, or at least delegates, orders. The lower on the totem pole, the more likely those orders involve Windex and a toilet brush. So when you get a job, the loftiness really is dependant on how ideological the orders are, rather than physical.
In olden times, work was like a men's club; it was a place to smoke cigars and swill pricey liquors, fraternize, and do NSFFL (not safe for family life) things. It was as if there was an endless cashe of money, and going to work just meant hanging out with the boys, as if the demand for whatever service was offered was high enough to where enough padding was in the budget to pay the people that actually transacted the services and their loafing superiors. Oh to return to those days where any job was romantic and relatively easy to acquire. Here we are in a dystopian future where none of that is the case. Luck and circumstance allow some to do what they love, making art or something contributory to the non-mundane, while the rest just do some random task at some random place that had a "Help Wanted" sign on the door.
Dreams, passions, and self-interest and self interest be damned if you don't find a way to transform your abilities with proper schooling into something practical. Regardless time spent under someone else's clock means time that you are unable to spend doing what you love of would like to do. Proper excercise time, unless you are so ironclad as to wake up at 4 A.M. to bust out that workout before the workday, is usually diminished along with the means to become healthier (especially when you're sitting in front of a computer or standing behind a fryolator). Everything seems to just automatically get filed in that all-encompassing "recreation" folder on the weekends, where hobbies, social time, and personal time all need to work themselves out or be damned.
There is a saying that 'misery breeds company,' though it should be that 'misery breeds companies.' More specifically, the food industry. It seems ironic that the business of hospitality is also the most hostile when backs are turned and doors closed. Cattiness ensues, gossip fuels tensions, alliances form, and all of a sudden the local pizza place is no different from a season of Surviver. It is also why there is more turning over than that of the pizza dough: the misery is too much to bear, even when it is a game of real life survival. Sometimes a frigid atmosphere at work is worse than the threat of not being able to pay the heating bill. Sometimes the tribesmen get voted out on purpose, so as to never spend another day on an island of betrayal and paranoia. After all, how can you make the "best of work" when the worst is all that's expected? Some simple pleasant coversation helps infinitely to pass the time, but it's as if these people were, with no better explanation, raised by wolves. Then again, most of these places are frequented with levels of emotional intelligence that never managed to graduate from high school.