The worst - the worst - bit is when the guy in the upstairs flat - you know the sort (heroic sideburns, brickbat runners, Liam Gallagher slouch) - starts having regular sex. With, like, another person. Squealing bedsprings, vibrating lampshades, flaking plaster - on a bad night it's like being trapped in that poltergeist movie Russ Myers never made.
Forget study. You can't even watch goal of the month on Match of the Day in peace any more. They could at least stop bloody giggling all the time.
This, of course, is the last straw. The final horror. The awful, inconceivable denouement. It's not as if you haven't been brave, forgone a few piffling indulgences. Natural daylight? Who needs it! Hot water? A luxury! Clean carpets? How insufferably bourgeois. (stop me if I begin to sound bitter). Hey - you're a big kid now. Light, heat, hygiene. Pah! For softies. Students can do without.
And, besides, you've got that Che Guivara/Jim Morrisson/Kurt Cobain poster over the fridge for company. Bet they would have loved your scruffy little undergrad bedsit. Fine - but add a little context (the sound of other human beings having some fun, say) and its down at heel charm dissipates quicker than a bowl of free punch at a fresher party.
Then again, instead of grumbling into your Pot Noodle, you could actually get off your can and, y'know, do something about the dingy state of your sepulchral pigeonhole. Sure sounds like waaay too much effort.
DIY, home improvement - hard to think beyond those moustacheoed Black'n' Decker fascists flex their drill heads on late night infommercials.
Don't be put off. It's quite straightforward really. Even a few basic touches - such as covering up that stain/ hole/dribble on the couch with a blanket, erecting some shelves or getting in a decent lamp - make a difference. However, if you're really serious about transforming your mouldering abode, be prepared to do some thinking - and a lot of legwork.
"The first thing to do is sit down and work out your plans," says interior designer Maria Flynn. "It doesn't matter if you have £50 or £5,000 to spend on home improvement - you've got to do your homework.
"Simplicity is the key. Remember that less often means more. Try to think minimalist."
For students, adequate lighting and sufficient study space are essential, but low-rent flats and bedsits tend to be poorly illuminated. This can make reading and writing difficult and there are longer-term consequences too.
"A shortage of light can have long term negative effects on physical and mental health," says Flynn. "These may not be immediately apparent but after a while the conditions will start to take their toll."
A dash of paint offers the most straightforward solution. Flynn recommends magnolia because of its neutral qualities. White can overwhelm and dark shades create a claustrophobic atmosphere. Cheerful wall hangings giving an impression of space and airiness should be considered. Even a brightly-coloured square of card can have a startling effect when set against a soft background. That perennial student totem, the peeling flyposter, is a complete no-no, she says. What - even those lurid Salvador Dali prints they're flogging three for a tenner down the student's union?
"If you're going to use posters try not to crowd the walls and use frames if possible," says Flynn. "Otherwise the effect will be incredibly tacky. And the room will feel smaller."
Mirrors are another good choice. They reflect light back into the room and - if big enough - will seem to double its area and increase the impression of space.
Knick-knacks are a must-have. Think eye-catching baubles, glittery novelties. Heck - even think empty spirit bottles stoppered with candles or icky Christmas tree lights. Anything that gives the place some personality. Anything.
SO, where can you get your hands on all this kind of stuff? Designer stores such as Habitat and Foko are a good place to start, often offering better value for money than might be expected. Habitat stocks a neat line of oriental table lamps (£10 a throw) and 1950s-style metallic desk lamps (£12.50). Also check out a range of cute paper shades - ideal for covering up those naked light bulbs (from £3) and preposterously cuddly mood lamps - big electric nightlights really (£10). More intriguing still is the lurid blue shower curtain (£6) which can double as a curtain and lord knows what else.
Discount chains should also be considered. Poundsworth, on Henry Street in Dublin, sells a staggering variety of tinted beakers, wineglasses and cutlery. Prices start at £1 per glass - six for a fiver.
The Reject Store, at the Jervis Street Centre, is flogging beer glasses for next to nothing (20p) and attractive candle lamps (£5). Plonk guzzlers may wish to check out a range of nifty wine racks (£9). The shop also offers a 10 per cent discount on production of a student card. Nice.
Close by, Nicholls soft furnishers on Henry Street stocks colourful rag rugs (£1.50) and delicious jumbo cushions (£3.50), while Dunnes Stores offers (relatively) inexpensive bedwear - highlights include cotton sheets (£10), yummy luxury pillows (£10) and - for those with a bit more lolly to splash about - highly desirable continental quilts (£35). Handy on those shivery January nights.
And, considering that the average student will build up a not inconsiderable caffeine dependency during college, a good kettle is essential. Try Roches Stores - it sports a variety of brands with prices between £30 and £50.
Novelty stores are a treasure-trove of weird, lurid and grotesque fittings. In Dublin, check out the Gadget Shop on Jervis Street. Specialities include a range of inflatable furniture (£20 - in any colour so long as it's kitsch), gigantic rubber sunflowers and a selection of superlatively naff disco balls (£30). Groovy baby.
IF all of the above sounds like too much hard work, you could always improvise. After all, who has done more to advance the aesthetic merits of the humble traffic cone, the auctioneer's notice or the street sign than the insouciant undergraduate bucked up on complementary wine?
"Even a traffic cone can be incorporated into a design so long as a bit of thought goes into it," says Maria Flynn. "But you can't just leave one plonked there in the middle of the floor surrounded by peeling wallpaper. That's just a bit naff."