Flow doesn't require an inherently glamorous or creative activity — it requires a specific relationship between a person's attention and the task in front of them, which means even repetitive industrial work can produce it, or completely fail to, depending entirely on what's happening in someone's mind while they do it. The opposite of flow isn't boredom exactly; Csikszentmihalyi calls it "psychic entropy" — a state where an unresolved worry or distraction hijacks attention and fragments what could otherwise be orderly, absorbed experience.
The contrast matters because it locates flow's cause inside the person's relationship to the task, not in the task's objective content. Two people can do the literal same job, in the same conditions, and one can be in flow while the other is in psychic entropy — which means the fix for a joyless job isn't always changing the job.
Rico worked the same forty-three-second task on an assembly line for over five years without ever growing bored, because he treated it like an athlete chasing a personal record — timing himself, refining his private technique, eventually getting his average down to 28 seconds, finding the work so absorbing that slowing down felt almost uncomfortable. Julio worked at the same factory, on comparably repetitive work, but during a stretch when he was preoccupied by a flat tire he couldn't afford to fix, his concentration shattered and his temper frayed with coworkers — the same category of job producing psychic entropy instead of flow, purely because of what was happening in his mind alongside it.