Early life

You are a teenager. All hormones and no experience, desperate to get out from under the thumb of oppression of your parents. You need a job. Job gives you the means to do what it is you want to do. Eat, pay rent as a roomie, buy your first shitbox car, go out drinking, hit up vegas for the first time, buy that sweet little nextdoor neighbour girl a movie ticket so you'll get a little hand action in the back row.... money makes the world go round. Since you're a teen with zero experience, entry level shit minimum wage jobs are all that's available to you. The only choice you have is deciding if you want to say, "Want fries with that" or,"Fill 'er up?" Beggars can't be choosers. But there are hundreds of shitty jobs out there. You're on a job carousel. You bounce from job to job, because none of them mean that much, and there are always more McJobs out there. Manager "disrespects" you? You quit on the spot and storm off. You finally find something that sticks, resonates with you. You like it here.

20-30's

You stay, gradually gaining respect and responsibility, growing some skills. Or, your school/training course has finished and you're now qualified to do some higher level work in a field you actually are interested in. Your skillset is growing, you're becoming an asset rather than a slot-filler.

Your name is getting out. Bigger better job offers are coming in. Rival firms are courting you. You have your pick of 4 different choices at all times. You logically and rationally choose the best package for you, again gaining "fame" and experience, getting more wealthy as you go along. Again, you have little holding you to any individual job, because there are 4 better ones just waiting for you to say yes. Bigger better things. But do you just up and quit your old job without having a signed and sealed offer from the better company in your greasy paw? Fuck no, that'd be stupid. You're building your career. Keep swinging to that higher branch.

40-50's

You are where you want to be. Ducks in a row, settled comfortably, making bank. The offers have slowed because you've been stagnant in your field, and frankly your reputation as a hot shot has (justly) diminished. You're still respected by the seniors, but the young hungry hotshots have their eyes on your corner office. You see your old self in them. Some longing and jealousy, but fuck, you've got it made. I bet if you tried you could land a few of those coveted positions opening up at rival firms. You're a big fucking deal, right. You were.

In actuality you've outlived your usefulness to the company. You just aren't a top producer anymore. You get shuffled to smaller and smaller offices, your workload keeps getting decreased. Your value is waning. But you still think you deserve that big corner office. You've hit the wall.

Retirement

One day you show up at work and all your shit is in a neat little box on your desk, security waiting to escort you out. You go down to the local shelter, buy 3 cats, and slowly wither away alone.

Shit. I meant to replace every instance of "men" with "women". And every instance of "job" with "men".

Women relate to men like men relate to jobs.