Living life according to a soap opera

[jennymanara]

If you were going to live your life according to how people live in soap operas, what would you do differently?

If I had a small problem I would never talk to DP about it e.g. small debt. Instead I would try and hide the problem and end up in a far bigger mess.

If the kids annoyed me I would send them to their bedroom. I would next see them 9 months later when they would have grown and become less annoying.

If I wanted anyone to babysit I would go to the cafe or pub and easily find someone to babysit on the spot, for the rest of the day.

If I was unemployed, I would spend the day wandering around the shops and pub right outside my house, and by the end of the day I would have a job.

I would have all my multiple wedding receptions in the pub. Christening too.

I'd wear my coat inside. All the time.

I'd shout at people. All the time. And it would be the norm, no-one would ever call me up on being so fucking rude.

I would work part time in a cab office but still be able to afford a mortgage, nice clothes and drinking and eating out in the local pub and cafe regularly.

OP, you forgot to add that you would eventually tell your DH the problem but only on Christmas day in the pub

I'd pretend to drink from empty mugs and never actually eat anything unless I was Michael French, in which case I'd always grab a bite of someone else's food as I leave the house.

@Lagatha Good point. Or alternatively DP would only find out when the baliffs turned up during a big family meal for an important occasion. In spite of the debt being for £500, and the fact we lived and owned a house worth at least a million pounds.

I would never have a baby in a hospital or as a planned home birth. It would always be a major drama by a lake or something and with my tights on [shows age]

I would never clean upstairs in my house as no one would ever see it. If I got pregnant, it'd either be born on Christmas day or be twins.

I'd always know phone numbers off by heart when using landline. And I'd be sure to have an affair with someone who lived next door or worked with my husband.

Even though I was in a crowded London suburb, all the neighbours would know each other and be on speaking terms . Everyone would work locally, and nobody would ever commute to the City oid West End. In fact, nobody would ever use the tube or buses.

Also I'd phone people to arrange to meet them, even for a date, and they'd say "see you at 8" with no further details, no location details and no discussion.

They would get a taxi if they went out for a special night in the "west end".
And if a family member moved to the other side of London I would end up in tears at the thought of rarely seeing them again.

I'd spend every lunchtime in the cafe and every evening in the pub

Yeah and always a black taxi, not even a mini cab or Uber.

I'd never finish a drink in the pub - I'd leave when the glass was still half full.

I'd periodically disappear for weeks, only reappearing when a new crisis was about to emerge in my life, then disappear again once it was resolved.

If I did something horrendous like bury my ex alive (which he miraculously escaped from) I would accept it as normal that after a month no one ever referred to this again except in an argument make vague statements like - well you're no angel.

In real life families gossip about insignificant things for decades. Like the time Auntie Jill had too much wine and tripped over.

I would order expensive takeaway coffees from the cafe(s) round the corner from my house rather than pop home and make one.

I would also constantly hover around in the background and listen in to conversations of someone who I thought had a secret they should tell me until they finally gave in and spilled the beans.

I would sit back in awe at the amount of murders that have happened on my tiny, tiny street. Then I'd decide I'd better get the hell out of that street by having a leaving party at the pub and leaving in a taxi with an obligatory wave out of the back of the taxi window.

Oh and if anyone in my family died I'd be over it in a matter of days/weeks and never mention that person again...

LOL this thread is funny.

I wouldn't have a washing machine. I'd live in a two up two down with seventeen bedrooms so that when my aunt's milkman's sister's son unexpectedly turned up having been presumed dead for twenty years but was actually my daughter, I'd be able to put them up.

I'd be really worried when I got to age twelve because I'd know that there was every likelihood of me innocently going upstairs to get a book only to disappear for two years and then reappear with a completely different head.

I would never, ever, under any circumstances own my own washing machine.

Xpost Fuma

I’d live with everyone in my street in turn.

I would be wrongly jailed.

I’d also “go round there and sort it out!”

I'd be distantly related by marriage to all my neighbours.

I'd be in constant fear of the secret child that I had when I was 16 turning up as my ex-husband's new girlfriend.

I'd wonder when my uncle who was murdered in 1983 would reappear, having not actually died as everyone thought.

I'd always have a long pub lunch, with multiple alcoholic drinks, then head back to work even if I was operating machinery of some kind. I would only ever work in a business in the street I live in too.