Forget sharing. Gandalf likes to hog my side of the bed. Whenever there's an opening, he goes for it. Even when I pretend I'm going to lie on top of him, he doesn't buy it and doesn't like my attempts to push him out of the way. He also doesn't like being locked in my office (aka the cat shrine) for any amount of time while I do chores that require me to go in and out of the house. When I return to let him back out, he gives me the stink eye and complains until I apologize, meaning until I give him a treat.
I leave the door to my upstairs bathroom slightly open when I shower in case Gandalf has to use the facilities. Twice now, he's hopped onto the top of the bathtub and walked along the length of it, though outside the shower curtain. Each time, I'm reminded of Norman Bates (insert screetchy music) and laugh my --- off. Both times, he went so far as to come inside the curtain and walk along the back of the tub to where a bottle of body wash stands in the back corner, just so he can sniff it, looking to see if it's food (his favorite pastime). Once he's satisfied I'm not in there eating, he leaves. He had the same interest in my electric toothbrush initially; kept meowing because he wanted whatever it was I was eating. Once I showed him it was an inedible brush head, he was satisfied.
The cutest thing, though, is when he races me up or down the stairs. He waits to give me a head start, then makes the cat equivalent of a racing car noise (a long warbling meow) and zooms past me. The first time he did it, he shot between my legs as I was climbing. He doesn't understand that tripping your meal ticket down the stairs might interfere with his meal schedule.