Yes, work is a major reason behind these thoughts—or rather, that desire.
It's not really because of my colleagues; they're great. But at this company, internal employees don't count for anything—not even if you've gone on to complete additional degree programs. And now, given the economic situation and the disastrous policies in this country, there aren't many jobs left, and the new contracts offer terrible pay.
I can't even switch off during my time off anymore; just like on weekends, I start thinking about that wretched Monday—when it all begins again—as early as Friday.
Don't get me wrong—I actually really enjoy working. In my private life, I like keeping busy all day, looking after my parents' garden, chopping wood, and so on.
But there's this forced routine: the alarm ringing every morning, having to drag yourself out of bed in pain, and knowing that—no matter how fast you work, or even if there's nothing left to do by the afternoon—you're stuck in this "part-time prison" until 4 or 5 PM.
And facing another 20-plus years of that. Then, unless you've made your own private financial arrangements, a lousy pension awaits—one that wouldn't allow you to afford anything.
I think if I won a few million in the lottery and could stop working, that desire to die might well vanish.
Just doing whatever I want and focusing entirely on my hobbies.