I’m going to go on the record and say moving is the worst it could possibly be in Houston. It’s hot. It’s a big, traffic-filled city, so nothing is smooth-sailing. Here’s exactly what it’s like to move in Houston, as told by gifs. You’re probably about to do a lot of nodding and “Hell yeah”-ing.

The weather is not your friend

It’s raining. Nope, now it’s done. Wait, there it goes again.

Oh and forget rain. The heat is what’ll do you in.

Like, you feel like you’re about to die and your clothes feel like you jumped in a lake. That kind of hot.

And sure, you have help. You probably hired movers or bribed friends. You’re probably super nice and easy going, right? Wrong. This is your shit, we’re trying not to break. You’re on stress level 10, pulling a Ross.

And the movers. You probably called all 400 of the moving companies and all of them had a minimum of an arm and a leg. The real pricey ones also required a moving fee of your first born child.

You’re barely halfway through when you’ve contemplated just burning everything and starting fresh with new furniture/kitchen things/all your worldly possessions.

Whatever, can’t the movers you overpaid just do everything for you? You’ll be in the other room taking a nap.

Oh wait, you can’t. All your furniture is packed/being moved.

That’s fine. You’ve honestly slept on worse floors than a freshly carpeted apt.

JK LOL, time to unpack. You drink a RedBull and get to work. You’re going to be efficient af.

Except that you don’t know where anything is bc, oh yeah, you packed like a damn fool. Why are their tongs in your laundry hamper? What sort of drugs were you on? Why were those in the same room together?

We’ll just unpack this box later. Time to explore the new hood! But only 5 minutes later, you have lost your car. Oh, and now your apartment. What building is this. THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME.

So you’re sorta unpacked and majorly confused. Now time to spiffy up the old place to get your deposit back!

NOT. You won’t get it back. It’s gone. You leave one stray hair, and it’s deemed trashed. Just call it a wash. You’re house poor now. It’s over.

Eventually, you’re less poor. You’re moved in. And everything feels as it should. Home sweet home.