Let me just say... I definitely judge workplaces, and my life, by the atmosphere in which I take smoke breaks.
Pre-2007: Fucking depressing parking lot.
In NYC 2007-2010: Times Square, Battery Park, SoHo.
Post-2010: Fucking depressing parking lot.
I hate where I am. I understand that hating where you are is not politically and psychologically correct, but... I hate where I fucking am. I miss New York. (And I miss Weehawken.) I like Austin "OK," but...
Austin was my town from '83 to '93 or so: Les Amis, Liberty Lunch, the Varsity theater, the Union theater, Senor O'Brien's, the Cactus Café... Today? Who gives a fuck about Formula 1 or SXSW? My cats' graves on Rainey Street have long been paved over by either bars or high-rises (I haven't ventured down to Rainey to check, though I've heard stories).
I'm disgruntled. I'm not going to do something rash and stupid. But what I MIGHT do is carefully plan a job search and move. (Probably WON'T --- I LIKE having furniture and a steady job and being able to buy whatever I want on a small scale, but... New York and Weehawken were beautiful. I've got to assert: I didn't leave there because I WANTED to. It was a recession, I was broke, and I couldn't ask my mother for any more stop-gap money to keep me there.)