In the hallowed halls of Oxford, under the watchful eyes of aged frescos that seem to tell stories of ambition and achievement, I stood among my cohort, cloaked in the traditional black robes of academia. We, the graduates, were charged with excitement, our heads filled with inspiring narratives of future success painted vividly by motivational speakers. They assured us that the world beyond those ancient walls awaited us with opportunities as diverse as they were numerous.
- I graduated from Oxford with my master’s degree, hoping I could land a full-time job.
- I applied to hundreds of roles, and all of them rejected me.
- To save on rent, I’m now a pet sitter who stays at strangers’ houses.
Beginning my job search three months before completing my degree seemed prudent at the time, especially as a foreign student from the US aiming to secure a role in London to attain a work visa. Yet, despite reaching the final stages of numerous interviews, each conclusion was painfully predictable: a polite but firm rejection. “You were great, but there was just someone better,” I was told repeatedly. Rejections, though initially stinging, merely sharpened my conviction that a fitting job lay somewhere ahead if only I persisted a little while longer.
In the interim, while waiting for that serendipitous role, I turned to the gig economy. It was a pragmatic solution to a mounting financial concern, a necessary bridge while I continued my quest for stable employment.
I needed a way to make ends meet in London
The pressure to find work intensified as I watched my savings, carefully accumulated during the financially draining years of graduate school, rapidly diminish. With every new application, I hoped my master’s degree and three years of professional experience would finally resonate with a prospective employer. But replies were rare, and when they did materialize, they often concealed another closed door.
London’s escalating cost of living crisis loomed large, transforming even modest rent into a prohibitive expense. It was clear that conventional approaches wouldn’t suffice in this predicament, and I needed to adopt an unconventional strategy.
House sitting emerged as a potential answer, a blend of accommodation and responsibility with the added benefit of animal companionship. As a lifelong animal enthusiast, I recognized an opportunity not just to survive financially but to thrive emotionally through animal companionship, all while bypassing exorbitant rent.
With precious months remaining on my student visa, I resolved to embrace this path and see where it might lead.
I became a nomad in London while house- and pet-sitting
Armed with pet-sitting apps and membership in Facebook groups, I reduced my possessions to what could fit in a backpack and embarked on a nomadic lifestyle across London. Each relocation was an adventure, from Camden to Croydon, Notting Hill to Newington, each home offering a new chapter in my journey.
Housesitting tested my adaptability; no two experiences were alike. While some animals and I bonded instantly—binge-watching series together or strolling through parks—other experiences kept me on my toes, like a canine companion sabotaging a Hinge date by marking the poor guy’s backpack.
Amidst this chaos, a semblance of routine emerged. Walks and feeding schedules anchored my days, providing structure as I applied for jobs and wrestled with snags only a mischievous Spaniel could introduce.
Despite the unpredictability, my furry friends ensured moments of joy and peace in London’s vibrant parks, warding off the despair and loneliness that sometimes envelop job seekers.
Though my rent was covered, I continued to freelance whenever possible to manage other expenses.
Unemployment is starting to affect my mental health
As my visa expired, my pet-sitting ventures expanded into Europe, notably to Greece. Eventually, I returned to the US, but the expedition wasn’t over.
The redundancy of endless job applications occasionally breeds a sense of futility, an existential dread that colors entire days as I scroll through job boards and compose cover letters that might never be read.
Watching peers from my graduating class blossom in their careers sometimes leaves me questioning if I’ve somehow misstepped, become a statistical anomaly in a world seemingly designed for others’ success.
Yet, in those moments of doubt and transience, the animals I care for provide a grounding essence. Each creature I care for becomes my anchor, their predictable routines offering solace and a sense of purpose amidst uncertainty. Even when it seems like I’m on a never-ending treadmill of setbacks, the joy of a furry friend nudging me to venture outside for a walk disrupts the cycle of despair, even if only briefly.
