Diary of a Housesitter

“Tia Rece, is staying here like being at boarding school for a long time?”

Huh. “I guess,” I answered.

As my niece left this house yesterday, I chuckled to myself. I’ve been housesitting for my former boss for several years. Back in the day, it made sense. I was living with my parents for a while and getting out of the house to have some “me time” was important for my sanity. These days, it doesn’t make much sense. I have my own place about an hour from here and I don’t really have friends up near where this house is. Granted, my folks live up here and when I plan to spend extra time with them, staying here is convenient. Plus, I always appreciate the extra cash. This makes me wonder though, I will there ever be a day when I’m so “together” with my finances that I would turn my nose to the idea of making some extra cash by staying here with the regal kitty cat.

Housesitting is more than a job. It’s a way of life. When you’re housesitting, you cast off all the comfort of your routine and surroundings to play house in another place where you have chores. The duties involved in housesitting could include taking out the trash, waiting around for package deliveries, playing with the cat, paying the gardener, and eating food out of the refrigerator to make sure it doesn’t spoil. You think your job is tough? This is much, much more intense.

Nah. Not really. But in my experience, there comes a point when playing house loses some of its charm and all you realize you really want is to be at your own house sleeping in your comfortable bed dancing around as you please. Because that’s the real point you become a grown-up, right?

Tata for now.

Rece

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