I was in my Freshman year at college when I decided to move out into my own place.
Granted, it wasn’t the most sound financial decision I ever made, but my mom was fucking unbearable to live with. I was 19, and decided I was going to leave home. Mom was furious, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. We fought for weeks, but Moving Day arrived, and I left.
It was a harsh lesson in financial reality. Very quickly I realized my job at the coffee shop wasn’t going to cut it. I needed extra income – and fast – if I was going to avoid crawling back to my mom in humiliation. Thankfully, the college had a job board on it’s website, and I did odd jobs for a while. It was a hustle, but I could tread water if I was careful.
One day, a wanted ad for house-cleaning services caught my eye. It was in a home that was just a few minutes away from campus, close enough to comfortably bike there and back. I have to be honest, I didn’t have a whole lot of skills to trade. But if there was one thing my mom had taught me to do, it was keep house. The ad was from a couple, not some single white creeper dude, which made me feel safer about it. It couldn’t have been more perfect.