Perhaps you should quit your high-paying, stressful job

(And think about what makes YOU happy.)

Photo by Yan Krukau

Remember that scene in Fight Club? Our unnamed narrator, facing Tyler Durden in a bar, the desperation practically oozing from his broken stature, says:

“You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug. Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

As an impressionable teenager watching the movie for the first time, that scene hit me quite hard. And even now, so many years later, it still retains some of its power. Because… he’s right.

Despite all hollow pop-culture criticism and simple living trends, we never stopped chasing this illusion of “making it” — the bigger paycheck, the fancy car, the career, the meticulously curated house that looks like it was lifted straight from a Pinterest board. And for what? To sit on that pristine sofa at the end of another disillusioning workday, filled with masking and alienation, too exhausted to enjoy it? To enjoy anything?

The somewhat moldy carrot in front of your nose

I fell into the trap. Graduated without any major hiccups, polished my resume till it gleamed, and learned to pretend and act with a perfectly straight smile. Landed a “good” and “respectable” job in HR, which, as I quickly discovered, was mostly about inventing jargon-filled ways to make employees feel valued while subtly reminding them that they’re replaceable. I wore the appropriate attire, drank the terrible office coffee, did the small talk and jargon, made my working-class parents proud, earned the good money, ignored the global degradation of industrial society, and watched my life drain away one pointless meeting and job interview at a time.

Sound familiar? An extensive 2022 survey concludes that nearly half of Gen Zs and four in ten millennials feel stressed or anxious all or most of the time. The main drivers of this degrading mental health are workplace-related, but, of course, the general state of late-stage capitalism also plays a significant role. As one of the surveyed (Matt, 29-years-old, from the UK) put it:

“My biggest concern is the amount of turmoil that exists in the world, and which is seemingly getting worse. We have one large existential crisis after another and I think the challenge is everyone is exhausted with having to be resilient… we’re not truly able to solve the issues we’re faced with. Instead, we put a plaster on it and inevitably the problem comes back bigger. This unrest and turmoil then plays out in the financial markets, in the economy, in politics and this coupled with the climate crisis — is making everyone more stressed than ever before.”

We graduated during or shortly after the Great Recession, entered a workforce obsessed with hustle culture, were consequently bombarded with social media feeds showcasing a life of curated #blessed perfection.

Life Is All About Work, Didn’t You Know?

Even if the carrot were thick and crispy: happiness ain't a house (and it might not be a car either)

We’re bombarded by ‘it’s-worth-it propaganda’ telling us how the sacrifices will lead to great rewards; that working hard always pays off when in truth it rarely does. Maybe that reward is a house with granite countertops and a yard to fill with more stuff. Consider: even ignoring the fact that hardly anyone can afford houses now, even ignoring the futility of “hard” work — into whatever corporate abomination the original meaning of “hard” is twisted — you do know what a house means, don’t you? A mortgage chaining you to the grind, endless repairs, the constant, nagging anxiety that something expensive is about to break — the underappreciated maintenance cost of capital. You’d become a slave to your stuff and Tyler Durden wouldn’t be too proud of you.

Epicurus once said, “Natural wealth is limited and easily obtained; the wealth defined by vain fancies is always beyond reach.” Are two bathrooms and a manicured, biologically dead lawn worth it? Will you be happy then?

Yet another reference to bullshit jobs (I cannot stop)

David Graeber, in his groundbreaking book “Bullshit Jobs,” argues that a significant portion of the modern workforce is employed in essentially pointless jobs. Think of all the middle managers shuffling spreadsheets, the consultants peddling buzzwords, entire industries that exist only to comply with nonsensical bureaucracy. Most jobs do not generate or produce anything, they do nothing for society. The most soul-crushing part of my HR job was the realization that I was wasting my life.

Graeber's work speaks to this broader societal malaise — a gnawing sense that our work doesn’t contribute anything meaningful (or even worthwhile) to the world. We’ve confused means with ends. Money is a tool, not the purpose of life. Work should contribute something, have some sort of purpose however small, not just fill our bank accounts and leave our souls thirsty.

What You Are Missing in Life

You must crave material wealth #bedifferent

Our obsession with material wealth isn’t exactly new. Thorstein Veblen, an American sociologist writing in the late 19th and early 20th century, coined the terms “conspicuous consumption” and “conspicuous leisure” to describe the way the wealthy flaunt their possessions as markers of social status. Veblen argued that this focus on material goods stifles creativity and true human flourishing. Also, the rich are essentially useless.

An excerpt from Wikipedia:

Veblen discusses how the pursuit and the possession of wealth affects human behavior, that the contemporary lords of the manor, the businessmen who own the means of production, have employed themselves in the economically unproductive practices of conspicuous consumption and conspicuous leisure, which are useless activities that contribute neither to the economy nor to the material production of the useful goods and services required for the functioning of society. Instead, it is the middle class and working class who are usefully employed in the industrialized, productive occupations that support the whole of society.

Fast forward a hundred years or so, and we're drowning in a sea of status symbols — the latest iPhone, the designer bag, the meticulously curated Instagram vacation, constantly changing fashion trends; a never-ending game where the goalpost keeps moving and the real prize remains elusive. The upper classes’ detachment and desire for stratification and cultural schismogenesis has infected the whole of society.

Relatively simple living

Eventually, I quit my HR job. Traded the corporate attire for an apron, the endless emails for 20k steps a day. I work as a server right now — I change my job as often as others change their bedsheets (every couple of months is okay, right?) — and yeah, some days are hard, but I come home physically tired, not mentally depleted. I have time to read, to cook a meal from scratch, to actually talk to my partner instead of zoning out on Reddit. Our apartment is relatively simple, possessions few, but I feel kind of alright. I have higher aspirations still (currently I’m fascinated by coding, so who knows?) but they do not pressure or stress me out.

(Writing this Substack does stress me out a bit, but it’s not too bad and I love it.)

(Please subscribe.)

Maybe you love your corporate gig. Maybe the suits and expensive lunches and a career genuinely make you happy. If so, that’s amazing, truly, and I’m not here to judge. But if, deep down, there’s a voice whispering that the trade-off isn’t worth it, then you should maybe listen. True freedom isn’t about how much you own, but how fully you own yourself.

There are, indeed, a million ways to live a simpler life. Maybe it’s downshifting to a job that leaves room for your passions. Maybe it’s starting a personal project that brings you joy and isn’t necessarily profit-oriented. Maybe it’s ditching the city for a quieter corner of the world. Or maybe it’s just about saying “no” more often — no to unnecessary overtime, no to draining social obligations that do not make you happy, no to the pressure to keep up with others.

Studies on happiness consistently show that true experiences, connection with loved ones, and a sense of purpose contribute far more to well-being than any material possessions. It might sound trite, but it’s a cliché for a reason.

Ambition isn’t a bad thing; neither is rejecting the pre-defined path

Some people genuinely thrive on ambition as it is defined by our current socioeconomic paradigm. They love the competition, love climbing up the corporate ladder, wielding power, expertise, competence, money. Our system doesn’t have to be one-size-fits-all. Yet even for the ambitious, there’s value in questioning whether the sacrifices are worth the potential rewards.

It’s also worth noting that escaping the rat race is a lot easier said than done. Systemic changes are needed to ensure that everyone has access to a decent standard of living, healthcare, and opportunities for personal growth (give us UBI, motherfuckers!). Simply opting out isn’t a solution for society as a whole. I’m in the lucky position that even as a waiter I can pay all my bills and even save up some money — this might not be the case for you. Also, I have no children, no mortgage to pay, no expensive cars.

In the end, the decision of how to live your life is a deeply personal one. Some might find meaning in building a career, others in building a family, others in building… a garden or something? And, sometimes, the path to happiness lies in rejecting pre-defined paths. It means walking away from the life you thought you must live to find the path that was truly meant for you. This is not an easy thing to do.

Thanks for reading,

Antonio Melonio

You can also support my pursuit of freedom and self-determination on Patreon (starting at $2 a month), or leave a tip on PayPal. Thank you so much.

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Here’s a cool throwback to one of my earliest essays. I was very angry back then:

Capitalism’s Golden Cage and the Illusion of Freedom

Another classic. I once hated cars with a burning passion (well, I still do):

Why Not Get Rid of Cars Altogether?

One of my favorites. The great two-part series on the rise of capital:

The Violent Rise of Capital (Part One)