I’ve always loved living in house-shares. Maybe it’s having grown up as the fourth of five kids in a small town in Cork, but I could never understand the appeal of a lonely and cripplingly expensive Dublin bedsit with just the four walls for company.

House-shares can be awful, but they’re also full of life. Midnight toast after the pub is nicer when there are a few of you reaching for the butter. A film is more fun to watch in the sitting room with a gang. If you’re having a party, a big house-share ensures a crowd before you’ve even welcomed in one guest. House-shares are a good way to test your limits and grow as a person – even if the growing is just you realising you’re too old to hide from the TV licence inspector.

But yes

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