Last night we had a bit of an incident with the living arrangement here in my apartment. As you’d expect when sharing a place, tensions arise from time to time. We get on pretty well for a large portion of the time but last night I was ready to throw my flatmate out into the street.

He’s recently broken up, kinda, with a boyfriend. Now my flatmate has a much higher sex drive it would seem, than I do with lots of random gentlemen callers to our humble abode but while he was seeing this boyfriend that all stopped, kinda. From time to time the number of randoms in the apartment has really gotten to me and the randomness of some of them has caused me concern. So when the breakup was announced I was worried that the revolving door was about to start up again. Just last night he assured me that wasn’t the case.

Jump forward a couple of hours and while I’m trying to get to sleep I heard the front door open and close and within the hour I was snapped out of my nearly resumed slumber by a very vocal appreciation of my flatmate’s sexual talents causing his guest a rather impressive climax. Then it seems they decided to have a very cheerful and loud conversation. I’ve never begrudged my flatmate his visitors. God knows people shouldn’t live as celibate a life as I seem to live, but at 1am I didn’t need to hear a loud orgasm and witty banter. So I threw a tantrum and told them to shut the fuck up. Rational? No. Not entirely unfair though. I did have to be up at 5.30am.

The politics of sharing a living arrangement can be quite tricky at times and I’m sure I’ve pissed him off on just as many occasions. We had a calm conversation about it this evening and he apologised profusely. Now, it’s not even 9pm and I’m going to bed to play catch up sleeps.