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To say I was elated when I graduated from Oxford with a master’s degree is an understatement.
Nestled in the graduation halls, beneath centuries-old frescos, donned head-to-toe in dramatic black robes, we grads listened joyfully as emphatic speakers told us about the big, successful lives that awaited us.
Now, after nearly 17 months of unemployment, it all rings hollow.
I began my job search three months before finishing my degree; like many other foreign students from the US, I hoped to find a job in London right after graduation so that I could get a work visa.
I made it to the final round of interviews for several positions, only to be turned down at the last stage. When I asked for feedback, the answer was nearly always the same: “You were great, but there was just someone better.” While the job rejections stung, I was still convinced the right role was going to magically work out; it would just take some time.
I had to fall back on the gig economy to make ends meet.
I needed a way to make ends meet in London
I became increasingly stressed about finding work. I had basically depleted all of my savings just getting through grad school, and I had very little to spare in this waiting period. I applied to more and more postings, hoping that my master’s degree and three years of professional work experience would qualify me for an entry-level job. For the most part, I heard nothing.
The UK has experienced a cost-of-living crisis over the past few years, which has increased the prices for everything, especially rent. I knew that if I wanted to survive in London, I would have to think outside the box.
I had heard about people using house sitting as a way to find housing for free but didn’t really know where to start. I’m a huge animal lover and have taken care of animals for most of my life. It sounded like a perfect exchange: I could avoid paying rent while also spending time with cute animals.
Thankfully, I had a few more months left on my student visa, so I decided to take the chance.
I became a nomad in London while house- and pet-sitting
I downloaded pet-sitting apps and joined Facebook groups. I downsized my life and lived out of a backpack. Every few days, I’d pack up everything I had and traverse London public transit to my next home. I moved all over the city, from Camden to Croydon to Notting Hill to Newington — and just about anywhere between. If a sit fell through last minute or I had a few days between homes, I’d crash on friends’ couches.
Housesitting pushed the limits of my adaptability: You never really know what you will get. As much as you vet the sits beforehand, nothing really prepares you for what waits behind the front door. On some of my sits, the animals and I became immediate best friends. We’d cuddle on the couch, watch Netflix, and go for late-morning frolics in the park. One of the dogs even joined me on a Hinge date (He didn’t vibe with the guy and peed on his backpack. There was no second date).
On the other hand, some of my sits have been some of the most hectic experiences of my life. Chaos became my routine. In between walks and feeding schedules, I’d ferociously hack away at job applications even while a needy Spaniel constantly shoved his squeaky toy in my lap.
Even though my days were hectic, I cherished the routine. The dogs got me out of the house and enjoying London’s greenspaces. It helped stave off some of the feelings of depression and hopelessness that so often plague job seekers, even if only for a short while.
While my housing was taken care of, I still had other bills to pay so I freelanced on the side.
Unemployment is starting to affect my mental health
Once my student visa ended in the UK, I continued pet-sitting around Europe, especially Greece. I’m still doing it back home in the US.
I’d be lying to say these long, drawn-out job-hunting days haven’t fuelled my nihilism. Some days, it’s hard to get out of bed, knowing that I’m doomed to repeat the same day over again, like some LinkedIn-dwelling creature, cursed to endlessly scroll job boards and write cover letters that no one will ever read.
I look around at all my former classmates — these wonderfully brilliant, successful people with fancy jobs and bright futures — and wonder if I somehow fell through the cracks. I fear that, somehow, I am an outlier.
Despite the chaos, transience, and uncertainty, I am thankful for my pet-sitting gigs. Taking care of animals has given me a purpose. I became these animals’ caretaker; their routines became central to mine. Even when things felt stuck and hopeless, I could always count on my animal companion to put a smile on my face.
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