I agreed to fly across the country to drive my dad’s car back home while he drove the uhaul with his stuff. The day I fly out, he calls and tells me he’s been drinking again, the movers canceled on him, and he’s a loser.

I get there and he’s puking up blood as he detoxes, hasn’t eaten in days, and I’m stuck with one driver and two cars. I had to ask my uncle to fly out to help instead of spending time with his son who was on military leave while my stepmother called around to find movers last minute, all while my dad complains about the pain he’s in and how he can’t sleep while taking constant naps and he’s such a loser.

Halfway back he has a seizure in the car I’m driving and I have to help him get the bile and blood he’s choking on out of his throat while operating a vehicle at 80mph to the next exit. Afterward his memory is frazzled and it takes a couple hours for him to remember where he is and what we’re doing.

We get home, I tell him I’m never helping him move again, his response is “but we listened to your music 90% of the way here!” This was three weeks ago.

I had to move from a dorm to another dorm once and “borrowed” a grocery cart because I had like 12¢ in my checking account and had to just push all my shit in a grocery cart on a major city’s downtown sidewalks on a business day.

Moved several states away. Hired a company to load the truck I rented, and the same company to unload at my destination. A few days before moving day they called and said they couldn't commit to the reservation and cancelled on me, leaving me to scramble to find a new company to load up. Lucky I do and get to my destination without issue. They show up to unload and are not dressed properly at all. One of the two guys clearly doesn't want to be there and it's doing the absolute bare minimum each trip he makes. The other guy slips on the truck ramp and hurts himself. Decides the weather was too dangerous to continue (it had sprinkled a little bit like 30 minutes ago) and cancelled the rest of the move with literally all of my furniture still in the truck. I had to call around frantically on a Sunday morning to see if there was any other company that could come out immediately and finish moving. Thankfully I was able to find one and gave each of them a big tip for saving my ass.

They stole a firearm.

Being homeless afterwards. This has happened several times so far. Here's to the next one!

Moving everything.

I was living with two other roommates and we were moving into another city to live there together as well. Me and one roommate were planning ahead and got moving boxes, slowly sorting out stuff that can be thrown out, and started packing things way ahead of the moving date.

The other roommate couldn't be bothered by all of this. The day we were moving he started packing his things. We had rented a moving truck for that day and were able to move my and the prepared roommates' stuff to the new appartment first. Then we drove back to help lazy roommate. If all had been planned accordingly we wouldn't have had to drive back to pick up a second batch of household items - only for returning the moving truck, and then to travel back to the new place by train.

Unfortunately he had not anticipated that he would have needed moving boxes and it was way too late to organize some. We were moving all of his stuff with garbage bags. They are not sufficient to move things at all.

Moving lazy roommates' stuff turned out to last several more hours than anticipated. We almost exceeded the deadline for returning the moving truck to the rental place, which would have resulted in having to be charged for another day.

0/10 for moving with garbage bags instead of moving boxes.

So I had bottom surgery two months prior, bed bug treatment like a week or two prior, and was just returning to work like the next day after moving the furniture. Also I couldn’t afford movers and had no friends helping because it was 2021. Thankfully I had my now wife with me, but it was two women moving an hour away.

Or it may have been like two months later when due to unfortunate chance + adhd my landlord thought we abandoned the place when we finally started moving into a new place and threw away the blanket my mom used while dying.

I've lived in 14 different houses. I can't remember any of the moves being particularly bad. Hard work, yes. Have had a couple of sofas not get through doors. Worst related thing was moving into first unfurnished place and assembling the new wooden bed on day 1 with a manual screwdriver that wrecked my hands and left me exhausted. Next day I bought an electric screwdriver and it's remained one of my top purchases of all time.

It's winter. My friend needs help moving stuff out of his childhood home after his mom died. Older brothers already got their share.

So here's the 4 of us guys moving all this old shit, and we come to the upstairs master bedroom. There's this 7-foot tall solid oak armoire. The stairs are a narrow ¾ spiral. We suspect they got it in originally by hosting it up over the balcony railing (his father had owned a profitable business before one of his brothers drank it into the ground, so it was a big place with high ceilings and stuff).

It took three of us, because that's all that would fit, to move this humongous chungus inch by goddamn inch down those stairs. Two on the bottom, me up top, and it took like a half hour. And since we didn't have a big furniture dolly we had to carry the goddamn thing out to the truck and walk it up the slippery metal ramp in Chicagoland flurrying winter.

Moved it into his new house, first floor master bedroom thankfully. We subsequently then told him that if he ever wanted to move it again, he could do it his goddamn self.

Edit: Almost forgot the part where one of the guys lost his footing, and just two of us were holding this in place. If one of the other two of us lost our grip, the two guys below it would have ended up in the hospital. Although my redneck friend almost certainly would have lived through it, cuz that guy and his whole family are a bunch of mutants and are practically indestructible, The other guy would probably have gotten killed or crippled since he was the one who lost his footing too.

I took a tab of acid the evening before the removal guy came. I didn't sleep the whole night as I was tripping and the removal guy was like a bull in a china shop so I had to move most of the furniture myself without sleep and still coming down from acid. 0/10 would not repeat.

Moved into a newly renovated flat that hadn't been cleaned. So there was a think layer of brick/plaster dust all over every surface. Then spent months fighting a four figure electricity bill because it turns out the builders had used my particular flat to charge their kit for months.

Let me tell you a story.

December 2017. I was moving across the United States with my gf (now ex) from Maryland to Oregon. We were packing up a 1600sqft 3br house where 90% of the stuff belonged to her. About half of the way through packing, she took a 1-way flight to Oregon to start looking for houses to rent. I wasn't happy about this but I vastly underestimated the remaining work to be done and couldn't convince her to stay.

I rented a 26' Penske truck and car trailer and, after discussing the timeline and general itinerary, convinced a friend to drive my Miata to roadtrip with me since I can't tow 2 vehicles at once. I then spent the next 4-5 days alone (friends weren't available to help), sleeping about 3 hours at a time and making as much progress as I physically could before collapsing. I was behind on time and had to extend the move-out day with the landlords 3 times. My gf was sympathetic over the phone but couldn't help at that point. Two days before the move, my friend asks if he can bring his gf along. I said it wasn't ideal since this was gonna be a fun roadtrip as bros where we make an event out of it together, but he's doing me a huge favor, so... fine.

Now the day of the move, my friend and his gf arrive and we eventually load the last 20% of the trailer and get my gf's Prius on the tow dolly. It's now nighttime but I can't stay to the following day, my landlord said. But wait, there's an issue with the trailer brake. While inspecting the trailer, a neighbor yells at us and threatens to call the cops because we blocked her driveway while trying to pull away. I responded "great! You think they could help us with this?!" This only set us back maybe 20 minutes and we hit the road, driving through the night.

The next day was relatively uneventful as we cruised through the miles. My friend and I chatted a little when stopping at gas stations, but he wasn't super talkative with me; I assumed he was chatting with his gf most of the time. I had expected him to stay with the truck to help alert me if I was looking drowsy, had any breakdowns, etc, but to my dismay, he darted off. I called, asking where he went off to, and he said that he'd meet up with me later. Uhhhhh... not OK, but what else can I do? I can't afford the $3k to have my car hauled to Oregon at this point. Fine... I guess.

Many more hours go by and I don't hear much from my friend. I pulled over onto the hard shoulder to give him a call and... he's in an entirely different state! (I think I was in Iowa at this point and he was in Missouri.) He said that he got a hotel in Kansas City and invited me to stay there as well. It was about a 45-minute detour (IIRC) but I hadn't had good sleep in over a week, so I said I'd meet him in the room. Of course, as I was pulling back onto the road, the right-side tires veered slightly into the soft shoulder and felt the trailer lean drastically to the right as they sank into the soft embankment. I managed to correct onto the hard shoulder and felt the wave of frustration wash over me: I've never driven anything remotely this large and this is exactly why I was hoping to have a travel buddy!

I eventually met up with my friend and his gf in the hotel room and slept in a bed for the first time in a week.

The following morning, we met for continental breakfast and I managed to keep my cool about how everything had been going, but did make it clear that I'd expected us to stay together. That is, until he and his gf expressed how they wanted to reroute to go through the mountain roads (they're in my Miata, after all... but it's December) and then visit family in Salt Lake. What... my truck was overloaded and had difficulty making some of the hills already - I didn't feel comfortable traveling on the narrower mountain roads. The details of the subsequent conversation are fuzzy but we were at an impasse. They'd made up their mind and, despite my reasoning, them ditching my car in Kansas City and leaving seemed a much worse option than going alone.

So I went it alone.

I got very good at backing up such a large trailer (with a Prius on a trailer behind me) as I navigated the Pac-Man-esque parking lot, then was back on the interstate. With no one else to account for, it was just me and the road ahead of me. The hours flew by. Until... I got a panicked call from my gf. She was having a panic attack with the whole housing situation and felt like she needed me as soon as possible. She felt lost and I felt helpless. At this point, a switch flipped in my mind. New objective: get to Oregon as quickly as possible.

I drove through Kansas, through Colorado (not through mountain passes), through Wyoming (and saw a spectacular meteor shower in the jet black sky), and Utah. Another panicked call came while driving through Idaho, only more tense. The pressure was getting to her, and my cumulative stress and exhaustion was getting to me. The call went very poorly and we were on each others' last nerves.

Night fell as I drove through the Cascades. Snowfall was blinding as I gained elevation. I would call this a whiteout; the only thing I could see were the flashing red hazard lights from a semi in front of me. If the semi were to drive off the road, I was sure to follow. To my bewilderment, a bold BMV driver blazed past the semi and me. Even more astonishingly, they used their signal when passing. Not having had any positive human interaction in a long time, I started a Signal video chat with my parents. I showed them the whiteout I was driving through, which understandably made them extremely nervous. What made it worse is that the call dropped shortly after. I can only imagine how they felt...

I reconnected with my parents and my gf as I drove along the Columbia River. I drove from Missouri to Oregon in a single sitting and I was the most tired I have ever been; I apologize to anyone else on the road while I was driving. I eventually arrived at the Airbnb after what felt like an eternity. I shared an unenthusiastic greeting with my gf as the tension had not yet dissipated, and my friend (and his gf) met us for coffee. The next day or three were spent looking for a place to call home, which we did eventually find, but I have not heard from or spoken to my friend since. Nor have I paid him back for the gas charges he left for me in the center console.

Shoulda just hired movers.

Four hours after I had a laminectomy, discectomy, and foraminotomy on the L4-S1 vertebrae and discs, the nurse was telling me that I had to get out of bed and walk up and down the hall. That was pain that morphine didn't seem to touch, and was easily my worst experience moving.

I have two. One moving some 'friends'. One moving myself.

The first was when I was in graduate school. About five of us agreed to move a couple and their kid across town. One was another graduate student. His wife was the front office admin. We figured it was nbd. One of us had a truck and they got uhaul. Little did we know 'moving' meant 'packing'. What should have been an afternoon turned into three days. Largely because of how particular she was about how things were packed. We would have said no, but she was in charge of important documents like travel reimbursements so we didn't want to risk it.

The second was moving to a new job. The truck was late, the place was filthy, and I had to sleep on the wooden floors. Those floors were so disgusting I decided to clean them. I vacuumed. I mopped. Nothing would get them clean, so I got a power washer. I learned that day that power washers can set off smoke detectors. The entire building was evacuated. Afterwards, I had to meet with the dean about it. She chewed me out and asked why I hadn't called facilities to have it clean. I told her if it wasn't cleaned before I moved in why should I expect it to be cleaned now. I have a feeling my contract not being renewed had something to do with that.

On the day we were set to move, we discovered the house we'd been renting had a roach problem when we moved the fridge and hundreds of them scurried away. The movers told us they couldn't legally shift our stuff in that condition, but if we took care of it they'd come back on the weekend for us. (That was a long weekend, so we gave them a five-star rating and would have made it six if we could.)

After fumigating and slashing the fabric on the base of every piece of furniture to check with bugs, we were ready. There was torrential rain that day, and even though I put matting down to help our feet grip on the steps, my wife slipped and bruised her hip so badly the marks were still there six weeks later. I wanted to postpone the move and take to the emergency room, but she refused. We were moving that day, even if it killed her!

Oh, and we had no internet because the ISP accidentally sent our router to another city and wouldn't give us a replacement until they found the first one.

Early in my transition I overheard one of the movers saying to the other.

Where does the fag want us to put the dresser?

I was living with my girlfriend, at her place. I went home to take care of my mother who had cancer. My mother died. I came home after that and my girlfriend broke up with me. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I moved to my car, in the winter. That sucked.

I had to rent an apartment for two months in between my old apartment was sold and my new house was ready. The apartment was furnished, so everything had to go into storage. Immediately after we moved in the owners told us they had put it up for sale and we would have potential buyers coming by now and again.

I wasn't homeless, and in the grand scheme of things this was just a small pitstop in a fairly great (if somewhat badly maintained) apartment, but then, my other moves have been much smoother, so here we are.

My cats went from indoor-outdoor to indoor only. They were fucked up for 6 months and I was fucked up because they were fucked up. Depression kitties, depressed cat lady.