Ahh, flatmates - my favourite. I've had a fair bit of experience with flatmates in my short life so far. I've lived with a few questionable characters and I've seen an array of personalities, some definitely bordering on psychopathic. I'm currently living with a severely disquieting woman who flat-out denies she smokes, but somehow fills the corridor with a smell that definitely resembles a cigarette on an hourly basis. Her case isn't helped by the fact that she looks as if she's brushed her teeth with a yellow highlighter.
If anything, though, living with flatmates makes me question myself a lot more than it makes me question others.
I've spent the majority of the last five years living with flatmates - most who've been strangers initially. I've had flatmates that have scared the living daylights out of me with their tempers, I've had note-happy, passive-aggressive flatmates and I've had smelly, dull, self-obsessed...this could last a while, you get the picture.
Being randomly placed in small quarters with people I've never met before has been character-building. And, just like everyone else who uses that phrase, I mean impossible. They've made me question my tolerance level, my ability to see the bigger picture and my patience.
If I could go back in time, though, I wouldn't change it. It's good to see the extremes of the human race, especially when they don't grasp the concept of grammar.