I'm not sure I buy the altogether too tidy link between people work too hard/much to people worship work but this line landed for me:

The economists of the early 20th century did not foresee that work might evolve from a means of material production to a means of identity production.

Again, I'm not sure whether I worship my work, or the sense of what I do as good in itself. But my relationship with work has been messing me up lately, something I just attributed to a general bout of existential confusion. Now, I wonder if I haven't been caught up trying to find the fit between work as a means and work as an identity.

My parents didn't see their jobs as defining pillars of who they were, beyond a modest sense of being hardworking, and they're content. Attempting to find a deeper message in my daily toil isn't doing me any favours—beyond giving me anxiety. Add both premises and our anecdotal conclusion: ease up a bit from work and find other ways of bringing meaning into my life.