Most enjoyable time of my working life would have been as a sh*t-kicking apprentice or junior chef. Paid peanuts, drink like a fish, smoke like a chimney, working split-shifts and six or seven days a week but spending your break and any time off getting plastered so it was all a bit of a blur anyway. Not a farkin worry in the world.
Now everything in my life is nice and flash and comfortable but the worries that go with it make you wonder if it's all worth it. Maybe I'm having an early mid-life crisis.