Why flatmates are disastrous and necessary to writing

I currently have three flatmates. We are all young women with the same day job (only I turn into a pumpkin in the evening). And they are a nightmare. They want to watch endless reruns of Friends. They tempt me into eating takeaway. One gossips constantly about celebrities. One simply cannot leave work at work. One hates chick flicks and another hates action movies. They are very sociable and worry when I'm out of the room for more than half an hour, which makes my writing targets pretty difficult to meet. But they're fantastic. They love going to the cinema. They have unique speech patterns, backgrounds and quirks. Two have boyfriends and one is single, looking - and that all comes with its own drama. They love to go out to eat. We gossip about our colleagues, our mutual friends, our other friends and come up with our own spin on the rumour mill. It's like having a character factory in my living room. The problem...
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