I've recently been struggling with the idea of identity, which is hardly a new idea. Historically speaking, literature has been dealing with the changeability of identity for hundreds and hundreds of years, even in Ovid's Metamorphoses, which was completed in 8 A.D--roughly two thousand years ago. This theme has stretched from ancient Rome to Elizabethan England (Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, anyone?) to today (Spiderman?).
Of course, few people take this route and focus instead on what your job is. Think about this: I went to a school with the motto, "Nobody at UCLA keeps score on who you are. They just want to see what you do." On the one hand, this is incredibly comforting--at a public university whose greatest rival is USC, the uber-rich, uber-snotty private school, it is nice to know that you will not be judged on your economic background or your personality, . You will not hear the phrase, "Anybody who's anybody" at a place that promises not to keep tabs on "who" anybody is. The problem arises, then, when you have a job that you feel doesn't accurately portrays who you are or what your abilities are.
I feel fairly certain this is virtually an epidemic in America today as more and more colleges spit out more and more graduates... and more and more jobs are outsourced. There are many examples of this in popular culture, as well--intelligent, well-educated characters who have jobs that are less than fulfilling or challenging. My personal favorite example is Wonderfalls, in which the main character Jaye earned her philosophy degree from Brown and is described as "over-educated and unemployable." She is witty and intelligent--and she works in retail and lives in a trailer park, a direct contrast from the rest of her over-achieving family. Throughout the single season that was produced, Jaye struggles to come to terms with both her profession and her life style in a world that sees the value in neither.