ADVENTURES IN HOUSESITTING

Finding the Other 6/7ths of Myself

Before the pandemic, I never could have imagined the life I lead now.

It was a Sunday. I don’t recall the exact date in spring 2020, but I know for certain it was the one day of the seven in a week when local law did not allow construction in a residential area. And yet before I opened my eyes, I heard the unmistakable sound of a buzz saw barely muffled by the thin wall between my bed and what was becoming a bar instead of a beauty salon.

“It’s gotten so bad that I’m now having auditory hallucinations,” I thought, still not fully awake.

Spoiler alert: I find a way out of the construction zone by housesitting. I began by caring for two Great Danes that each weigh more than I do. I’d say “go big or go home,” but at that point, I’d sold my home.

But the buzzing and banging continued. I pulled on a sweatshirt, grabbed a mask out of habit, and shuffled down three flights of stairs to investigate. Sure enough, dust and noise emanated from next door…

In “the Before Times,” as I think of our lives prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, my small space in the heart of Washington, DC was all that I needed. My neighbors were courteous and kind and the neighborhood fun and funky. Then in March 2020, like people around the world fortunate to have a job that so allowed, I took my laptop and items from my office home to “flatten the curve” for what we expected to be “just a few weeks.” The construction began a few days…