Things I’ve Learned From Housesitting For My Bosses


Being the only young, single employee at my firm has its perks. Oh wait, just kidding, I can’t really think of any. Apparently, my bosses think housesitting for them is a “perk” of some sorts, but it really just means I have to pack up my life and move into a house that reminds me of the amount of money I’m not making for an extended period of time. As with any life experiences come lessons, which I’ll share with you. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.

The wine in the refrigerator is not yours.

This certainly was not one of my finest moments. It’s irrelevant (at least, to my boss) that I was in the midst of a “Sex and the City” marathon and Big had just screwed Carrie over (again), but it is relevant that I got thirsty. What else could quench my thirst than the $30 bottle of wine in the fridge? They left three bottles in there…so they must have been gifts for me. Logic never fails.

After opening the second bottle, I knew I would have some explaining to do when they got back. The next night, I finished the third, because I was all in at that point. My boss never said anything to me, but I know he probably thinks I have a drinking problem. Great.

There is no privacy.

You’re not in your somehow expensive ghetto apartment anymore. When you’re housesitting for the boss, you’re likely in a nice area…and with nice areas come nice things. For example, one house may have a really nice pool, while another house may have a state-of-the-art video surveillance system that snaps pictures of the people you invited over to your boss’s house to drink and have a jolly good time. Just an example of what totally did not happen to me.

Neighbors talk.

How nice of Nancy next door to tell my boss that “the cute girl who stayed at your house didn’t come home Saturday night!” Nancy followed this with a very, very sincere concern about my wellbeing. Nancy, I could kill you. Thanks to you, my boss now thinks I’m an irresponsible alcoholic who whores herself out. Okay, maybe this is all my fault, but I’m still blaming you.

Your place is a dump.

Overall, after housesitting for the much-wealthier-than-thou folks, it’s pretty apparent that you live in a shit hole and that your life needs some rearranging. However terrible housesitting may be for my reputation at work, it really is a source of motivation for self-improvement, as well as a driving factor for success. The free food–oh God, I probably shouldn’t haven eaten their food–doesn’t hurt, either.

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Lizzi, 24. Retired athlete, aspiring attorney, and a nondiscriminatory lover of all wines. Currently about to start her third degree because student loans don't really exist and knowledge is totally power.

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