Job 7:1-10

1“Is not man consigned to labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired hand?2Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.3So I am allotted months of futility, and nights of misery are appointed to me.4When I lie down I think: ‘When will I get up?’ But the night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn.5My flesh is clothed with worms and encrusted with dirt; my skin is cracked and festering.6My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.