Something in the working day never gets signed off
Something about your relationship with work has no closing point. Neptune sits in Capricorn in your 6th house, so the day ends when you stop rather than when the duty is discharged, and there is always a residue that follows you out of the building.
You did not pick the stone-and-blueprint longing; it came with the years and belongs to a crowd. You did receive a specific room for it, and the 6th house is that room — which is why the weight lands on your daily hours and your body rather than on your standing.
There is no hour at which the duty is discharged
Ask when your working day ends and the honest answer is that it does not. There is a point at which you stop, and a separate notional point at which the obligation would be complete, and the second one never arrives. So the evening runs with a small piece of the day still going. Deciding a finishing time in advance and treating it as real is the only way an ending gets created, since the work will never supply one.
Other people's work quietly absorbed into yours
A task falls between two roles and you pick it up, because it needs doing and you are reliable. It happens a dozen times a year and none of the additions gets recorded, so your actual job bears little resemblance to your job title. List what you do for one month. The gap between that list and your description is the thing to take to a manager.
Your reliability is being read as spare capacity
Because you deliver whatever you are given, the assumption forms that you have room, and the assumption is self-reinforcing since you have never contradicted it. There is no elegant fix. You have to decline something visible, early, and let the estimate correct itself. The discomfort lasts a week and the recalibration lasts years.
You can hold a whole arrangement together
What you actually provide is structural: without you a set of processes, relationships and commitments would come apart, and everyone senses this without being able to specify it. That is a real and rare capability. Make it legible once — a document of what depends on what — both because it protects you and because nobody else is holding the map.
The last person in the building to take a day off
Your threshold for stopping is set well above everybody else's, so you work through things that would send a colleague home and then take three times as long to recover. The endurance is genuine and it is poor arithmetic. Set a rule in advance about what warrants a day off and follow the rule rather than your judgement on the morning.
Promoted into more of the same work
Because you are excellent at execution, each step up brings more execution rather than less, and you arrive at a senior title still doing the work of two people. The pattern only breaks by handing something over badly and letting it be done imperfectly by somebody else. That is the actual skill you are missing, and it is learnable.
A life organised around what has to be done
Your days have been arranged by obligation for so long that the question of what you would do otherwise has gone unasked. It is not a rhetorical question and you may find you cannot answer it. Spend one week noticing what you are drawn to when nothing is required. The answer is often surprising and it is the beginning of something.
Colleagues respect you and do not include you
You are the one people go to and not the one they invite, because seriousness at work reads as unavailability outside it. The exclusion is real and partly self-authored. Go to one thing you would normally decline, stay an hour, and be visibly not working. It takes a couple of repetitions before the category you are in changes.
Paid for a role you left behind years ago
The job has grown steadily and the compensation has followed a different curve, and because you never raise it, the gap widens quietly. Make the case in writing, with the list of what you actually do attached, and ask at a moment when nothing is on fire. The evidence is straightforward; the only missing element has been the asking.