You know, I used to think that about myself. I’ve found that I actually enjoy intermittent periods of doing things that are valuable and could be construed as work, when I’m well-rested and the impacts of trauma are minimized. But the problem is that state so rarely exists in life for so many people because we are forced to do this shit day in and day out, and they call us lazy and entitled when we no longer have the capacity to handle it. I’ve been in a near-continuous state of burnout for so long that I cannot imagine myself happy even if I never had to work again. My anhedonia is so bad that when I get home from work, all I do is eat and sleep, even on the weekends. I put some shit on YouTube to pass the time and I can’t even remember what it is I watched, it’s more or less just a grey noise generator. Deep in the back of myself I remember a person who once enjoyed things and had goals and dreams, but about the same time I start feeling like that person again, I have to go back to work, and it starts all over. This is no way to live.