The dignity of labour

A cliche which I have occasionally come across in novels is when the protagonist, who obviously leads a fantastic, exciting life, and whose problems are really important, happens to be on the bus or tube during the rush hour, and they look around them at the drab, tired, clearly desperately unhappy commuters, and think what terrible boring lives these people lead, in fact, how boring they themselves probably are, to have settled for such a life, blah blah blah. This superior arrogance makes me so angry!! How does this "hero" know what's going on in people's minds? I'm sure when I'm returning from work I look dead beat and am not grinning all over my face, but that doesn't mean I'm not elated at the thought of getting home, pouring myself an enormous g n' t, putting my feet up to watch the news or read the paper, enjoy my own company for a bit or maybe see friends or family later on. Other workers may be delightedly looking forward to seeing their spouses and kids, or seeing their mates/lovers later on - what the hell right does anyone have to judge them and decide what they're thinking?

Do you have to do an unusual, high-flying job to be worthy of regard?
Is there something shaming in doing an "ordinary" job in an office/factory/warehouse/school/hospital, sweeping the streets or emptying bins? I totally challenge this. I believe strongly in the dignity of labour, going out in the early morning, hideous though this is, meeting work mates, getting the job done, paying your way in society, even though it might be hard, and injustices often occur, doing a good job,but realising that family and friends are what really count.

I myself work on a temporary ad-hoc basis. On the days that I work I absolutely hate getting up early, but as soon as I'm out and about, I get a real kick out of being part of all those people on their way to work

Am I mad?