The main reason I hate my job, any job, is that a job dictates my schedule. That's what I hate. I want to do what I want when I want (just call me Cartman
) and a job prevents that.
For example...I don't feel like working today. But, I've got to work today. Ipso facto...I hate my job.
I worked for years as a musician, and I loved being a musician, until I had to do it for a living. Then I hated it. I could be hired as the lead crotch inspector at Victoria's Secret, and by the end of the first week, I'd be saying, "I can't believe I have to get up, go into work, and look a bunch of supermodels crotches right in the eye all day. Life's not fair!"
In short, I hate work because it's work.
My parents raised me with zero expectation of being anything I could be - they were quite the opposite, really, and made sure I understood that you have to work to have anything, and nothing in life is free, and nothing in life is fair, you can do everything right and still end up broke and dead, so get used to it, sonny. It's probably the best advice they ever gave me, because every time I've been kicked in the teeth, I think, "Yep, they told me this could happen," and I'd brush it aside, and just keep going.
Job change...I'm less than five years from retirement (unless life kicks the rest of my teeth out before then), and I've got a good-paying job now, so I'm not changing anything if I can help it. I'm going to spend the remaining work years honing my retirement speech: "Remember when I said your yoga pants didn't make you look fat, Mandy? I lied! You hear me?! I lied right to your big, fat face! And you, Bob...why does your office smell like old socks and spoiled milk? I'll tell you why, Bob - because you're in there! Take a shower, man!"