Love and hate are completely relative

I've decided that I don't love my job anymore. In order for me to love doing something, it's required that I be good at it. I'm not necessarily good at this. I mean, I'm okay. Just about anyone can edit bits of code on the level I am. Maybe I'm just getting burned out. I've ctrl+V'd until my pinky screams in agony. I get nauseous thinking about adding more tags. I'm just burned out. The crazy thing about it: I really miss radio. Not Cita-hell; oh no. Radio. Why? Because I was good at it. I mean, hella good. I rocked the house. I miss being amazingly, awe-inspiringly good at my job. And that's being modest. What I don't miss is getting paid barely enough to eat. People at McDonald's were making more cash than me in any given week. So, when given the option...yeah, for right now at least...I'll take the money and run.