Complaining or just truth?

I often wonder why I went to University? Was it to become a broken down old middle aged man in shop job?  To serve molly-coddled people who can't be asked to look around to find an item?  To lift heavy items (incorrect lifting -with the back and not legs) over a counter and tweak my back so terribly that I could neither stand or sit, because people couldn't be bothered?  Am I the author of old crap computers and people who can't use a chip card?  No!  I'll probably get fired, but at this point and in heat of extreme back pain, I really don't give hee-haw!  It is called the "Stob" for a reason, a stake in the heart of many bloodsucking and soul-stealing entities...