Had thoughts on this the other day, about going to the office after the weekend always feeling bad, and waiting for the weekend always being the main thought during work. Yet, the weekend? Not actually that great. Feels totally artificial. Like work is not fun by definition.

A lot of these "certain delay for 'correct' response" rat feeder types of mechanics. Even when you know "the hit" is pointless or a waste, still heavily compelling anyways.

Cigarettes have a similar experience if you smoke too long. Days of "I don't 'actually' enjoy this anymore", yet my body still demands something that makes me vaguely nauseated now. Except, per the original comment, it is still the "suspense for a reward" that no longer exists.