Everything is worth it if you make it worth it.
My new job depresses me, when I let it. Everyday I bring ridiculously particular orders to hoards of cranky former doctors/lawyers/otherwise-rich people who can no longer live their lives the way they want to. They're stuck in this retirement home, they can no longer drive themselves, travel, go on outings, in some cases even bathe themselves or breathe without a machine. Every day they get more and more depressed, they take it out on me and it's a normal part of my routine to get lectured. After all, how dare I bring them their soup and entree at the same time! Obviously it's going to get cold, what was I thinking? I must take it back immediately and wait exactly ten minutes before returning it to them. And what on earth have I done to my fingernails? Gray nail polish? It makes them look like they are rotting!
My favorite is the mousy old lady that sits at the corner table by herself. She requires breathing tubes, and her vocal chords don't work anymore. She whispers. Sometimes she uses a pen and paper. Yesterday she motioned for me to come over to her table. I came over thinking she would want coffee or for me to cut up her food again. She whispered "thank you for being kind." So I brought her extra ice cream.