Fed up with student life

As I was walking to my current house I was reflecting on the disadvantages of student life, sharing a house with strangers. As if to support those negative grumbling, when I entered the house, who was sleeping on the kitchen table? The big, fat cat.
The big, fat cat that slept on my bed yesterday because the landlady went into my room for no apparent reason and left the door open.
I like cats. But I also like hygiene. Therefore my love for cats unfolds solely when I meet them in the garden.
When I opened the fridge to put something on my shelf, a smelly meat or fish can with open lid I found. 1. I want a little shelf in the fridge, just for ME! 2. I can't stand smelly meats...I will never forgive that flatmate who cooked liver, when my room was next to the kitchen. In the evening when I want to boil some greens, the kitchen is occupied again with someone frying some meat. I can't stand the smell and decide to fast that evening; drink lots of tea instead.
When I want to go and have shower, someone leaps into the bath a second before me and stays forever.
I was about to say something unfair, but now the heating is working again. At over 60 Decibel. But fortunately radio AND TV are on maximum volume and therefore I can hardly distinguish the pumping of the heating.
Finally, after a week of intermittent searches, I discovered where my cookies landed. In the cupbord of one of the housemates, it's half gone already. Later when I decided to steal some cookies back they were all gone.
I reached a stage in which I stop searching immediately when I miss something. A private letter? My lotion? Oh, maybe a flatmate borrowed it. That's fine. I'm used to that.
Oh, "home, home"? Where that is? People are so impolite and tactless to ask! The last thing I considered to be "home", about a decado ago, my parents are scratching each others eyes out to decide what's gonna happen with it. Well, why do I make a fuzz of this? It's quite important for me to have a little private cave to lie back and relax after the mammoth hunt.

I want to go into my little garden,
Want to water my flowers
A hunchbacked little man stands there,
Starts at once to sneeze.

I want to go into my little kitchen,
Want to cook my little soup,
A hunchbacked little man stands there,
He's broken my little pot.

I want to go into my little bedroom,
Want to eat my little compote,
A hunchbacked little man stands there,
He's already eaten half of it.

I want to go to the attic,
Want to fetch some little wood,
A hunchbacked little man stands there,
He's already stolen half of it.

When I come at my little bench,
Want to pray a little bit,
The hunchbacked little man stands there,
Starts at once to speak:
Dear little child, please:Pray for the hunchbacked little man!

(Das bucklig Maennlein)