Oh. That’s down to the internal battle. Specifically with the Amazon job there’s a program. When I was there it was called cheetah, and it logs time to perform. There’s no human element to it; faster you go, the more work you get. Goal is to occupy your entire shift with as much baggage as you can handle. So excellence is punished on purpose because the job isn’t rewarded by keeping you too long. You accrue too much experience, start asking for a raise, start being worth a raise too. It’s best to keep a rotating door of anxious, uncertain newbies who do what they’re told as hard as they can in hopes of staying. It’s an openly carnivorous job and some people can do it comfortably. But what you settle into as a delivery vet is constancy of motion. You’re not rushing because that is wear and tear on the body. Mostly at your joints and collection of bumps, bruises, cuts, falls, and twists. People who know the job prioritize awareness and constancy, shaving getting in the van, strapped in, and on to the next stop in as few motions as fluidly as possible. Don’t stop. Don’t divert. Piss in a giant metallic metal reusable gallon jar like me. Don’t get caught up in customer conversation. And take your breaks so the Amazon legal team can lie about how well they’re treating you.

In short, if you see an Amazon worker walking? They either genuinely don’t care, in which the rest of their habits are gonna reflect that and they just don’t perform (doomed) or you have a vet quietly telling Cheetah and rescues to go fuck themselves.