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It’s really nice to come home to someone who is awake.

For a large part of my internship I came home to a pitch black house with 4 of my flatmates passed out – all in different stages of their sleep cycle, as evidenced by their various positions on their designated sleeping areas. One would be in a half-twist, one would only be covering half his body with his blanket, one would have gone to the belly flop sleeping position, and one would be hugging a pillow. It was extremely amusing.

I’d always have to open the door using an extra set of keys we left outside the house (psst: it was on the hinge of our very unlocked door), and enter after. I’d go to the kitchen, draw the curtains – so as to not interrupt my flatmates, and change. Ultimately, I’d set up camp there and work for a few hours on my moot submission. It was a great time for me.

But, on some days, I’d come home to one of my flatmates playing FIFA on their mobiles.

It made me happy to know that someone else was also awake. We’d say Goodnight to each other before he slept – but I had someone to talk to two minutes atleast – before that happened. Which was very comforting.

More importantly, I would find out whether our toilet had enough water to sustain an entire poop cycle of mine (if I really had to go), or whether I should just brave it out till the morning.

I’m kidding, it was never that bad. We did, however, manually fill up the flushing tank in our toilet with extra water we had collected so that we could poop. At times. This other time my room flooded.

More on that in another post.

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