Diary of a Gen Z Student: Learning to simmer down over spills and messes in shared accommodation

If my flatmate insists on watching movies late into the night (and refuses to experiment with the apparently foreign concept of headphones), we must all endure her Netflix film of choice

Jane Cowan: 'In a flat shared by eight girls, the incessant lack of hygiene greets me every time I enter the kitchen. The light dusting of instant noodles that coats the floor. The constant dirt of our presses. The remnants of what appears to be a chicken curry splattered across the hob. I tend to close my eyes as I near the sink. To my dismay, it’s never not full of the soggy leftovers of someone’s breakfast.'

Every surface sticks with sources unknown. The hoover gathers dust in the corner of the kitchen. The pile of unloved, unwashed dishes on the windowsill is ever increasing in size and biological matter. It’s student accommodation, baby!

My bedroom is swelteringly hot. And all I’ve got to counteract that is a single window that cracks open just about two inches. I cannot decide when the heating in the building is turned on and off, and the dial on my radiator seems to be for decoration more than anything.