I don’t want to be Stephanie anymore

There has been an unexpected development in the sock investigation. D2 (daughter2) has started reading the blog and last night confirmed that she left the socks on the floor, adding that they were in fact her boyfriend’s. A fact, which it appears, has led her to think that this absolves her of all responsibility even though she was the one who had been wearing the socks and boyfriend who lives 200 miles away hasn’t been in our house for months. To be continued….

A twist to the usual Zumba night tonight. I always start getting ready ten minutes before I’m due to leave and then either drive away feeling very pleased with myself for getting changed, finding trainers, finding £3 and remembering a drink within the allotted time or feeling stressed because I have to use the stash of cash in the car to buy a drink or pay the £3. This comes back to haunt me when I have no change for a parking meter and the only cash in the car is three 2ps with some unidentifiable sticky sweet stuck to them. Tonight I was feeling extra pleased with myself as I’d also squeezed in ironing my T shirt. Drove the 2 miles to the community centre and when I was a couple of hundred yards away I suddenly remembered it was cancelled tonight! The only explanation I can think of for this last minute recall is that when wonderful woman instructor told us last week I was so bereft that I locked the information away in a dark corner of my brain so it wouldn’t slip into my consciousness during the week and make me feel miserable. On the plus side I had an hour free that I wasn’t expecting so I pulled up weeds in the front garden.

You may notice that my blog name is stephanierose. That’s not my real name. I did try to register with my real name, then with variations on it – roserose, rose2, rose2, rose3, rosierose, roserosie, roserosie1 were just a few I tried. I became quite exasperated the forty sixth time  ‘sorry, this username is already in use’ popped up. Then I hit upon the idea of using the name I spent years wishing was mine. At a very young age I was told by my mum that she had thought about calling me Stephanie. At that moment my coveting began, although it wasn’t until secondary school that it became focussed on a real-life Stephanie. She was everything I wanted to be – she could jump hurdles, she could swim, she wore a pencil skirt, she had wavy hair, she dated the boy of my dreams, she even had a Saturday job at a riding stables! Oh how I dreamed of being her and imagining how different my life would be.

Of course if I had been her I wouldn’t have the amazing life I have and I love my life now : )

I’ll keep that in mind the next time Frodo utters the words that send me into a state of despair – “‘I’m going up to fix the shower”. Equally bad is the question “Have you seen the big screwdriver?” I’ll just keep repeating “I love my life, I love my life, I love my life” until all thoughts of Stephanie subside, along with my visions of her relaxing in the perfect house built from scratch by her and her handyman husband extraordinaire.


About stephanieroseishere

My life is amazing on a small scale and I can make it sound super amazing! It is unlikely I'll ever climb Mount Everest but I often navigate the mountain of stuff that accumlates at an alarming rate in various rooms in my house. My household consists of me, my OH (Frodo), my two daughters (D1 and D2) and my son (Son). Recently I read this somewhere “If I make someone smile today then my day has been worthwhile” or something like that. By writing this blog I hope to make many people smile but if only I read it I’ll be smiling anyway. I would love to get your comments and will endeavour to respond to any I get.

2 responses to “I don’t want to be Stephanie anymore

  1. Erin

    I put the socks on the back of the sofa. Someone else moved them to the floor!

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