I’ve been working for a Boston moving company for a few years now, and I can honestly say it’s unlike any job I’ve ever had. Sure, it’s physically demanding—I don’t think I’ve ever been this fit in my life—but it’s also full of everyday surprises that keep me on my toes. No two days are ever the same, and that’s one of the things I’ve grown to love about it.

Let me start with the part everyone always asks about: the brutal staircases in places like the North End or Beacon Hill. People see those charming, historic brownstones and think they’re gorgeous. And they are—until you have to lug a giant couch or a refrigerator up four or five floors with no elevator. I’ve learned to plan my approach carefully: measure corners and doorways, call out instructions to my partner, and always lift with my legs. Still, by the time we make it to the top, I’m usually drenched in sweat and praying that the client’s bed frame can be disassembled so we don’t have to do it all in one piece.

Parking might seem like a smaller issue, but in areas like Allston or Brighton, it can be the single most frustrating part of the day. Narrow streets, endless rows of cars, and the strictest parking signs you can imagine—it sometimes feels like a game of Tetris to maneuver the Safe Responsible Movers truck into a spot that’s remotely close to the building. And if I do manage to find a legal place to park, there’s usually some disgruntled neighbor or a steady stream of honking cars to remind me we’re taking up precious street space.

Of course, Allston and Brighton come with their own special flavor because of the college crowd. I’ll knock on the door expecting the client to be ready to go, only to find half-packed boxes, random clothes strewn everywhere, and a complete lack of organization. Sometimes, you can almost trace their entire college experience by the stuff they’ve piled up over the years—pizza boxes, old textbooks, broken futons. I’ve had to develop a kind of gentle patience, helping them sort through what to toss or keep so we can actually fit everything onto the truck. It can be chaotic, but there’s something satisfying about turning a messy apartment into a neat stack of labeled boxes.

On the other end of the spectrum, there are the high-end buildings in the Seaport. It’s a totally different scene. We roll up to these brand-new luxury towers and see gleaming lobbies, valet parking, and sometimes a concierge who’ll barely look our way. I’ve had concierges demand a specific elevator reservation or question every step we take to ensure we’re not scratching any pristine walls. It can be challenging to juggle their rules—like strict time windows for moving, protective pads in the elevator, and so on—but it’s part of the job. I’ve also moved clients who had so many high-priced items, I was terrified of scratching something. You handle a designer table or a custom couch differently than a college futon, that’s for sure.

And then there’s the other side of dealing with concierges: sometimes, they can be a total lifesaver. If I’ve had a tough morning, it’s nice to be greeted by a friendly face in the building lobby, someone who has the freight elevator ready, who shows us exactly where to unload, or who can help keep the process smooth. It’s a reminder that not every high-end move is a headache.

One of my favorite parts about this job is that every day is new. One morning I might be hauling boxes from a cozy Beacon Hill apartment, and by afternoon I could be setting up a massive office space downtown. There’s a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. When my arms are sore, my back is stiff, and I can finally sit down, I can actually see the fruits of my labor—everything we moved is in place, the client is relieved, and I know I played a big role in making their transition a little easier.

Is it brutal at times? Absolutely. Those staircases don’t get any lighter, and the Seaport concierges don’t always get any nicer. But it’s never boring, and that’s what keeps me coming back. The constant change of scenery, the small triumphs over tight parking spaces and impossible angles, and the satisfaction of a job well done make it all worth it. Working for a Boston moving company has been a wild ride—and one I wouldn’t trade for anything.