New Housemate

I have a new housemate. His name is Khalil (I think, it sounds like that, anyway..more on that when he gets his first piece of post), he's a third year Astrophysics student at the University of Hertfordshire, and he has a pet rabbit called 'Bunny' who is currently living in our shed.
He seems cool, which is a bit of a turn up for the books...

...and takes the current housemate tally to this;

Downstairs: Me
Upstairs: Smallest room (not the toilet): Claire - newly 21 yr old McDonalds shift manager...shortly off to Malaga
Second largest room: Khalil
Largest upstairs room: 'Danny', nocturnal Post-sorting malaysian gentleman, and his guest from home, 'Hee', who is still staying, still around, still trying to sell things (to Khalil this time, not me, I told him to bog off). He has stopped drinking my tea, mostly because I have now run out. He thought my cupboard was Danny's, allegedly, which would explain why all my food was disappearing. Grrrr. We'll see if he actually stops using it now I've explained it to him.

Socrates, Sartre and Sinatra

I work hard at my job.
Don't get me wrong.
I enjoy it.
Don't get me wrong.

It's just that I've tried to steer clear of identifying myself through it. I don't want how I earn my living to be how I'm defined.
In this way, despite having worked in Hatfield for nearly 5 months, I don't really think about it a lot outside of office hours, or give it an inch to expand into in my own time. It's not that I'm not dedicated to my job, (don't get me wrong) it's just that it's my job...it's not my title or defining quality.
At least, I've tried to keep it that way.

The spin side of this is that I'm beginning to feel a bit detached from my life.
It's odd.

It's the distinction between 'I work as a...' and 'I am a...'.
It might not seem like much, but it is leagues of difference to me.