Welp:
![](https://snworksceo.imgix.net/dth/74bc56a0-4817-4a95-b1f2-1d75b8609db0.sized-1000x1000.png?w=1000)
Absolutely, definitely, completely not taken from the pages of my roommate's diary:
"Oh, you again. Don’t you have somewhere better to be? Oh right, you live here. The Roommate. Today I very nearly forgot that you existed for a full four minutes, before you began singing ‘Mr. Brightside’ at I’m-the-star-of-an-opera volume as you showered.
"Omnipresent and yet surprisingly elusive when I want you to take out the trash, The Roommate is often misunderstood. For good reason, too — The Roommate is full of paradoxes. How do I hear you or smell you almost constantly, despite the fact that I almost never see you? How could I have lived with you for a month now but I honestly don’t know what color hair you have? Am I what you are to me, to you?
"Oh, Roommate. Most of what I know about you is, like an archeologist trying to understand the customs of an ancient civilization, based on long-abandoned artifacts. Also like the ancients, most of these artifacts are dishes and ceramics, long forgotten to time and daylight under a stack of other dishes, pots and pans in the very full, very bad smelling, sink.