All the struggles of living with complete strangers in your student house

Trust me, this is nothing like first year


In uni halls you try to be as nice and as clean as possible to make a great first impression, because let's face it, no one wants to be Billy-no-mates in the flat. However, living with students you don't know in second year really is another ball game. You quickly learn that it is every man for himself.

Get ready kids. You best pack your ear plugs, have a food box in your room, and hide your washing up liquid, because you're in for a long, tumultuous year.

Don't bother ordering any parcels

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You'll quickly find out that no one answers the door, because you just don't care about each other's online orders enough to collect them. It's much easier to stay in bed listening to the doorbell go four times instead of get up and answer it. It's most likely going to be your housemates friend, and honestly you're not even sure if they're home anyway.

And if you do make the brave decision to order a parcel, it better be on your day off. Otherwise, that new outfit you bought for Friday night Kasbah has probably been left with some random neighbour who doesn't answer their door either. Trust me, the weary walk to West Orchards' New Look to collect in store is far less effort than knocking on doors up and down your street.

Sleep is a thing of the past

Whether it's the weekend or a boring Thursday, best believe your housemates are going to be listening to the TV as loud as they can. By this point you can probably quote word for word every Friends episode they're so intent on rewatching.

We can all play our music a bit too loud sometimes, but now it's just taking the piss. If you can survive uni on four hours sleep then good for you – but I can't. And I'd appreciate it if you stopped blasting Man's Not Hot at 3am. It wasn't good last year and it still isn't good now.

On the chance you risk ear plugs, they're only great if you can hear your alarm (you're definitely gonna sleep through that 9am anyways).

The living room is either completely full or it's empty

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A wild second year surrounded by all her friends

I'm not entirely sure who actually lives in my house, or who's just here for the bants, but I swear I've never seen half the people in this room before. Yeah, it's fine, I'm just gonna leave you to it and hide upstairs.

You never leave your room

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Someone you barely know is always cooking or hanging out in the kitchen which means you may as well stash your snacks in your room. To be fair, a microwave in your bedroom would be the greatest breakthrough since Isaac Newton discovered the Laws of Motion. You were never gonna go downstairs to cook in the first place.

The lounge seems like a distant dream as we all know you're not gonna venture that far in the house, especially when you can hear everyone being loud downstairs anyways. Stay safe, stock up on snacks when you can and only leave when absolutely necessary (read: To pee).

Lack of communication

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Well that's just not alright now is it lads

There might be a group chat but no one ever speaks in it. That message you sent last week? Yeah, it's been aired by even your closest housemate. A huge pile of plates and pans tends to accumulate by the sink and that hob only gets a clean when the landlord says he's coming to visit.

If you're lucky, there might even be a rota for the bins, otherwise you have to just suck it up, be the bigger person and take them out yourself – again. It never seems to be anyone's responsibility to buy new bin bags or toilet roll either.

It's best that you just clean up your mess after eating and ultimately learn to live with the smell of burnt pizza and rotten eggs in your house. This is your life now.

Say goodbye to your milk and everything else for that matter

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Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend

Seeing as you don't know each other very well, you have all your own separate food. This means that when someone runs out of milk, you'll suddenly see yours start to go down. You can't really say anything as you've been using some else's rice since last week. You have no idea who the food thief is. It really could be anyone (hint: It's everyone).

I can't count the amount of times I've gone to make a cuppa and a slice of toast after a mad night out, to find my dreams shattered when I realise that someone's drank all my milk and used all my butter. Guess I'm having a bad hangover tomorrow on an empty stomach. At least I'm full of something – and that's resentment!