Renee's Progress

Renee, now transformed into Connie both in mind and body, began tidying up the mess she presumed she had left behind. Frowning at the shattered phone on the floor, she clucked her tongue tutting, "You'd think someone in their fifties would know better than to handle electronics irresponsibly." As she wrapped her head around how disturbingly untidy her house appeared, she realized she had double of everything, a pair of flats she didn't remember owning and a purse identical to hers already slung over her shoulder. Meanwhile, the original Connie, utterly clueless of the bizarre turn of events, strode around her neighborhood, on the hunt for Renee. She stopped at each house, sticking her nose in everyone's business, trying to gather information about where the teen might be hiding. Renee, in her new Connie persona, was experiencing the strangest sense of déjà vu. The grumpy attitudinal tendencies that she formerly criticized were now hers. She found herself standing on the porch, scanning the neighborhood with suspicion and a readiness to reprimand anyone who stepped out of line. Overwhelmed by the newfound perspective, Renee started regretting ever calling Connie a 'Karen.' It wasn't just a funny stereotype anymore; she was living it. The scorned looks from her neighbors, the gossip they whispered when they thought she wasn't looking, and the constant surge of anger over matters that previously seemed petty echoed loneliness and a misunderstood life. Meanwhile, the real Connie, seeing Renee (now Connie) on the porch put an end to her wild-goose chase. She ambled to her house, muttering about teaching the girl a serious lesson. Upon arrival, she squinted at Renee suspiciously and said, "Renee, what on earth are you doing on my porch?" Renee looked at her, puzzled, "What are you talking about? This is my house!" Connie gasped at Renee's audacity. The two Connies looked at each other, not yet able to grasp the reality that they were both indeed - Connie.