Clean toilets don't enrich your world?
Yes, they most certainly do. But I'm glad I don't do it for a living.
I had an epiphany many years ago. I was returning home from a trade show and pushing a stack of anvil cases on a hand truck across the parking lot at the Sky Harbor airport in Phoenix. I had a suit and tie on and it was 110 degrees. I was tired and sweating profusely and feeling sorry for myself.
But then I looked up and saw a roofing crew working atop the parking garage in those hellish conditions, and I thought to myself "no matter how bad I've got it, at least I'm not a roofer".
I, too, sit in a comfy chair. Most of my work happens inside my head, figuring out how to make imaginary things look real. I solve problems on the phone, often dealing with clueless users and self-proclaimed computer experts named Jason (they're all named Jason, or Brett and they all have tattoos). At the end of the day, my back aches and my eyesight's blurry.
But I still maintain it isn't work.