It's my current state of being.
I would not even notice if my flatmate died. He could have been on that Air France flight the other day and I would have been like "can I move my stuff into his room? I need more space." I'm not even kidding.
However, for whatever reason, he still has not moved out. (Rex asked him to on March 1st. It's now June 3rd.) He is repulsive in every way possible. He can't talk properly. He doesn't shower. He talks on the phone while watching television that's turned up too loud. He also uses his computers (yes, there's two of them) with the sound up as loud as it will go, while watching television. Multi-tasking, you might say? No, no. Just completely obnoxious twat.
I feel inclined to complain about him mercilessly because currently he's in the living room (which is strangely, where I am too), watching Everybody Loves Raymond, which I hate, while talking about his motorbike on the phone. Get out of my life!!!
Yuk. That is all.