My ex-stepfather used to stress this to me all the time. He'd say "Pick (shortened version of my childhood nickname, Pickle), it doesn't matter how much money you make, if you don't love what you do, you'll never be happy".
He was right.
When I graduated high school, I wanted to be a teacher, but I didn't want to go to college, so I decided I didn't need to be a teacher. I figured I just needed a job that could support me being independent and let me buy lots of clothes, and I'd be fine.
I was wrong.
Before I decided to go back to school, everyday I would go into work with a longing in my heart. I knew that where I worked at the time wasn't what I wanted to do. It was a job, but I wanted a career. I wanted to be someone, and I wasn't happy being the someone that I was. So I went back to school to try and be the person that I want to be. There is a big risk that I might end up hating it, but then I'll go back to the drawing board and figure out what is it that I love.