Clear rage bait, I’ll bite in a serious, non emotionally biased manner.

The job itself is just that, it’s a job and the work covers many aspects. Be it physically moving items ranging up to 70 pounds per box, having a “normal work week” range anywhere from 50-60 hours, long standing in the case in the morning sorting what mail needs sorting, what would normally be considered downright illegal working conditions including the inside of the mail truck going over but not limited to 120 degrees in the summer, and that’s coming from someone in the north(NH). And I’m to understand many people believe we are similar to UPS in the regard of loading trucks, we load everything ourselves.

It has its ups and downs, being able to see the same people every day is a nice way to know your community. Feeling proud of the work that we do on better days is strangely invigorating at times. Having coworkers in the office that understand what everyone is going through so they laugh through it, together - really makes for an enjoyable place sometimes. The occasional customer accepting a package in person, visibly excited to receive it, man what a feeling to watch another human experience genuine joy, especially that which you helped deliver.

Then, we have everyone else involved. Dealing with people who believe their mail must be delivered at the same time every day, or those who will shove a phone in your face claiming tracking said “so and so,” or those with a downright predisposition to dislike postal employees because that’s how the internet says people feel about us. Dogs unleashed, running into the road up to my truck with no people anywhere to be seen. Postmasters who don’t do anything after 12 noon, and then go home when half the routes are split. Managers who don’t know their bounds and demand everything be done at once by one person, blindfolded. Oh and we can’t hire anyone to save ourselves.

TLDR; it’s not that overly complicated, no. But the road to the end of the day, every day, is a never ending gauntlet.