I've had my fair share of stress along with every other thirtysomething. It's not fun, and it's really horrible when you're going through it but I've also recently come to the conclusion that it's fucking contagious. Walking in after a stressful day at work with a face like a smacked arse stresses those who are around you. I've tried to de-stress my life as much as possible in recent years, moving, changing job etc. and I've been successful to a certain extent. You can never get rid of stress, we need a level of it in our lives to get things done etc. But up until recently I felt I had eliminated a lot of the excess stress.
However, being on the receiving end of a face like a smacked arse every evening is in itself stressful, particularly when you are just at that point in the evening where you've managed to forget about all that you have to do in work tomorrow, all that you didn't get done today etc.
I am philosophical about this, this too shall pass and I shall return to being one of those barren spinsters who is, in fact, quite able to live alone, without someone else in the house!
Moral of the story is that I believe that people in their thirties are too old to have housemates. Partners, husbands, wives fine, but housemates no! (or maybe it is just me!)