Ok but here is the flipside.

First of all, you're entitled to your opinion and you may be right. But I'm betting against you because of my recent experience.

I've always had a good job and enjoyed great pay, allowing me to live in nice places, travel, eat well, and not worry about stupid shit like medical bills or not being able to replace a cracked windshield on my car.

Then, my beautiful amazing wife was struck down by a brain hemorrhage and left in a coma. She cam out of her coma eventually, but was left wo severely damaged that she needed 24x7 care and couldn't work, dress herself, prepare food, shower or get a bus.

At the time, I was running a small company I founded together with an old friend. I did all the work - he was kind of the finance guy, accounting, and he controlled all the expenses. Dougal McFrugal (not his real name) was a tightwad and he didn't believe in health benefits, or any kind of goodies for employees, or me, the founder and do it all guy.

Our business began to fall apart as I was balancing caregiving with trying to work, and failing at both.

Then, it fell over and died.

I spent 8 months on unemployment, caring for my wife, failing to make ends meet, and wondering if I would ever work again, ever have enough money to live a decent life again, ever have some sort of meaning in my life beyond feeding, bathing and dressing my beautiful fallen angel who can no longer care for herself.

I looked for jobs. I turned down the shithouse jobs and told people to fuck off if they were contacting me about retail or delivery jobs. Eventually, after months of age discrimination, scams, lowballers and sweatshops, and great jobs slamming the door in my face, I landed a great job.

I love my job.

It defines me. It gives me purpose and it boosts my sense of self worth. I feel that every day I am slaying dragons, defending the free world from old school garbage IT and serving up generous helpings of modern era Salesforce custom solutions, putting smiles on faces and delivering delighted customers.

I make enough money to pay caregivers $22/hour for most of the working hours so I can work in my back office locked up and undisturbed, while my wife is in good company with a gentle, caring person who knows how to keep her safe, and feeling loved, despite her tragedy.

You want to call my job a fake identity and a meaningless drudgery? Fine by me. My job allows me to do what I enjoy doing, and in return, it brings in enough money to escape the hellhole of being a forced caregiver who has lost everything because America won't help me care for my wife.

You don't want to work? Do your thing bro. I don't care.