Stress
Lots. You're never done. Contracts are never eternal, and you're always politicking. You have to look tough against The Man—but in private, you and The Man are more partners than enemies. So there's an implicit duplicity in your gig. You show one face to the gang who voted you in; and another with whom you negotiate out.
The ball is always being juggled; the sides are being set up for that next negotiation in three to four years. One day an innocent, idealistic twenty-five-year-old will look in the mirror to shave and a jaded, cynical, exhausted fifty-four-year-old may look back. It's a tough job—but someone has to do it, or…well…Ma and Pa Joad will be real people once again.