Living with roomates is the paradise for a writer. It’s like a botomless well, an unending goldmine. The unexpected and unconventional situations it produces, increases as wild weeds in a wheat field. Take for example the issue “house chores”. I live with two roomates, and we didn’t agreed in a specific time to do them. I mean, you have to clean something, at least once a week to avoid living in a filth, right?. But there is no explicit time to do them, and this “no one’s time” is the key. Guess what James, my roomate from China, did yesterday at 2 am in the morning? The kitchen. He cleaned the kitchen.  And he didn’t limit himself in cleaning the cooking grills. No. He washed every dish on it too. So we had a “cling clong cling clong” serenata during about one hour. Can you believe it? Cleaning the kitchen at 2am in the morning in a Sunday night. But that just doesn’t only happens on Sundays nights. He also has the unique ability to talk by his cellphone at 3am inside her room like he is in a fish market. The concerto of high and low pitches is oustanding, I assure you. Of course I couldn’t fall asleep in any of those situations, even with earplugs. But what to do?  For some reason Nature likes, common sense is not an ubiquitous sense among mankind