We all do things. Different things. And we all think about them differently. To some of us they are work, to some of us they are play. Some of us do great things, some of us do less than great things and some of us do crap things (and we usually know it). Some of the things some of us do are played out for all to see and many of us think very highly of many of these things. Often the people doing these things are very happy and don’t actually think that the things they are doing is actually anything but their life (life’s work?) and their calling. They know it is bloody hard work but they don’t necessarily think of it as a job or going to work.
Their whole identity pretty much goes into their work. For example, outside of work they might read books or write essays but when at work they will read the very same books and write the very same essays. In this way the jobs become us, we envelop them until only ourselves are left, strong, resilient and brilliant. For someone else to do our work would require so much resource, so much complexity, so much analysis of everything that collectively makes up what we do and who we are that replacement is nigh on impossible. For now we are future proofed.
Those of us whose whole lives do not go into our jobs have a different story to tell.
//somewhere in england