KEY POINTS:
I will always remember a former workmate announcing her retirement from journalism.
"If I stare at these four walls any longer, I'm going to go mad,' she said simply.
So she quit, and headed to the South Island to be tramping guide.
Ever since, whenever I'm stuck for ideas, I find
myself staring at the same walls and asking myself if I'm sick of it yet.
Fortunately, I am not. Though I don't discount that one day I may be.
An email recently circulated with an update about an old school mate. Having obtained a law degree from a top international university and landing a job at a prestigious Australian law firm, she decided she actually hated law and moved to France to become a nanny.
While this in itself didn't surprise me, the response of my friends did. Nearly all of them envied her.
Indeed, it seems an overwhelming majority of my friends hate their jobs. Or at least seriously dislike them.
But having spent up to five years at university to enter their respective professions, the thought of a career change is too daunting to fathom.
Besides, most have only been working for a year or so. Surely things will get better?
But what if they don't? At what point is it reasonable to admit defeat and call it quits?
A friend emailed me last week, in exactly this predicament.
After three years working in event management, she is completely over it.
"I worry on a daily basis that I'm not making the most of my life and living it to the full.
"I can see my future under air-conditioning, staring at a computer screen and getting zero job satisfaction. I feel I am having a break down, and yes at age 25!'
The question is, does she cut her losses and change profession now, or tough it out and see if things improve?
Three years ago, I wrote a story on quarter-life crises and interviewed an accountant-turned-teacher. She hated accounting and wanted to make some sort of difference in the world.
But, after a year's training and two years teaching 12-year-olds, she realised she hated teaching just as much so returned to the world of accounting.
If you're going to be miserable, you may as well be well paid and miserable.
To be fair, by that stage she wasn't entirely miserable. Rather, she had come to accept that she just wasn't going to have a job she loved. And that was okay.
She still had great family and friends and enjoyed her life outside of work.
Which raises an interesting point. If work is not the be all and end all of your life, perhaps you don't need to have your dream job to be happy and content?
Have we been sold a myth - much like the 'women can do it all' of the 80s - that you have to be satisfied at work to be satisfied in life?
A former workmate recently returned from her OE, where she spent 18 months photocopying her days away as a receptionist.
And she had the time of her life.
As she said, "I never thought I would be happy in a mindless job like that. But it was great.'
So, I put it to you, is a good job a pre-requisite for a good life?