There is a question sitting under the working day
There is a question underneath every ordinary task you do, which is whether any of this counts for anything. Pluto in Sagittarius in the 6th house puts the search for meaning into routine work, so a job that pays well and means nothing is not a workable arrangement for you.
Everybody born across your stretch of years carries Pluto in Sagittarius, so that setting is common property and describes a period rather than a person. The 6th house came from your birth time and is the individual half. It puts the search into daily work rather than into travel or belief in the abstract, which is why the crisis, when it comes, arrives on a Wednesday morning.
Where the charge lands
On the purpose of the task rather than on its difficulty. You will do genuinely hard work indefinitely if you can see what it is for, and you cannot do easy work at all if you cannot. Colleagues read this as inconsistent effort. It is entirely consistent and the variable is not the one they are watching.
The test is the small task that matters
The situation recurs: something trivial that has to be done properly, repeatedly, with no visible significance. You will rush it and get it wrong. That is the exercise here, and it is unglamorous. Take one recurring small task and do it exactly for a month, on the grounds that reliability is itself the meaning.
Read as impatient, running on scale
People see somebody who cannot be bothered with the detail and files it under carelessness. What is actually happening is that you are working at the level of the whole thing, and the detail keeps interrupting the view. Say which level you are operating at, out loud, because your colleagues have been reading a difference of altitude as a difference of effort for years.
An ordinary week with a horizon in it
What makes the routine bearable is not making it more interesting, it is knowing where it leads. Write down the connection between this week's tasks and something you actually want, and put it somewhere you will see it. Without that line, the routine will be abandoned every few years for reasons that will look like restlessness.
All or nothing, and mostly nothing
Your approach to the body runs in extremes: an ambitious regime pursued hard for six weeks, then nothing at all for a year. The ambitious version is the problem rather than the lapse that follows it. Choose something so modest it feels pointless and keep it through a bad month, since that is the only version you have never tried.
The work has to be for something
You can tolerate difficulty, poor pay and long hours if the purpose is clear, and you cannot tolerate comfortable work with no point to it. That is worth stating plainly to yourself before your next move, since you keep choosing on the wrong criterion and discovering the right one eighteen months later.
Money is not the reason you turn up
You have taken worse-paid work for better reasons more than once and you would do it again, and that is a genuine value rather than an oversight. It still has to be costed. Work out what the decision has cost you across a decade, so that the next one is made with the figure visible rather than discovered afterwards.
You argue with colleagues on principle
At work you will contest a decision that most people would let go, because the reasoning was wrong rather than because the outcome affects you. It has earned you both respect and a reputation. Pick the two that matter each year, since spending it on everything means having nothing left for the one that counts.
Practical help, delivered at distance
You will drive four hours, sort out the difficult arrangement, teach somebody how the thing works, and then leave before the atmosphere settles. It is genuine help and it arrives in a form that suits your tolerance rather than their need. Stay one extra day this time, doing nothing useful, and let that be the contribution.