Before moving in, we discussed cleaning, guests, noise and shared costs like calm adults. Then actual life started. One person cooks at midnight. One person needs silence to study. One person believes a pan is soaking until history ends. Everybody has a different point at which an empty toilet roll becomes someone’s responsibility. The surprising part is not the conflict. It is how quickly strangers learn the vulnerable details of each other’s routines. We know who calls home after a bad day, who skips dinner when stressed, and who cleans the kitchen because they need to feel in control. Living together has not made us best friends. It has made us witnesses. I think that deserves a little more patience than the chore schedule can express.