Do not read this post. Or do. Whatever…
Do you believe in fate?
I mean, the thing about ‘fate’ (usually you only hear that word on a happy occurrence right?) is, for me it is totally random.
Sometimes I believe, other times I don’t. I mean, how can I?
Fate is usually exciting. It is usually a happy event. It can be heavenly. It can be exhilarating. Some events you believe, others you don’t. It is round and round right? (As in, fate can be good, but can be shit too?) It is unusual. It is unbelievable. It is twisted. It is coincidental. It is bloody confusing. It is stunningly beautiful. It is heart wrenchingly, gutting but it is believable right? It can be hugely overwhelming. But it is believable right?
Or is fate just a fucker? A figment? A nonsense? A total ball ache?
On occasion, when it suits, I can be found sat in a circle of friends, professing to all and anybody who will listen, the benefits and the sheer romance of a little thing called fate.
Mostly I am a believer. Mostly.
Take this as an example;
In July 2007 two people I have never met, may or may not have been deciding to move house. They may or may not, have almost decided to stay put, but then at the last-minute and as their love was so deep, and they needed a change, they decided to go for it.
Those two people, may or may not, be the reason Woo is here today!
Ok, let me explain.
If the one of those people hadn’t put the effort in, or helped with the decision, or hadn’t been as brave, the Irish one would never have moved to Manchester.
I would never have met the Irish one.
Woo would not be here.
(Which, if we continue down that fast paced motorway, means, I would never have got post natal depression, would never have joined Twitter and would not be writing this today…SHOCK, GASP, FAINT!)
So to that end;
I find it slightly worrying and a little strange that today I may have inadvertently changed the future for someone I do not know by waiting an extra five minutes before leaving the house. Or by ordering a curry instead of a pizza hut (huge diet fail!) this evening, or by giving my opinion to a stranger in the Dr’s surgery this afternoon.
A woman with a perfect bump and skinny thighs (yes I wanted to slap her) asked me for my opinion on having the swine flu jab while pregnant. I stood there with my sagging belly and thunderous thighs and told her I’d had it at 23 weeks and Woo was fine. She had said ‘thaaanks’ in a sing songy voice and trotted off happily… (skinny thighed bitch.) Once I had stopped staring at her legs, (pretty sure they think I am a lesbian in that office) I suddenly, under the realisation of what i had just said, felt a huge weight land on my shoulders, ‘like what if he is not fine in a few years and I told her he was fine?!?!?’ Cue panicked nationwide search and rescue effort for the pregnant woman with the skinny thighs! (Again, pretty sure they think I am lesbian.) But I couldn’t have lived with myself if she had done it and something had happened and it was my fault.
Turns out she had already had the damn injection and was just ‘checking up thanks hoooneeeyyy’ (knob.) Skinny thighs and annoying. I nearly died running out to the car park. It has been at least a year since I have run. (Somewhere, someone had a glass of water that was doing a ‘Jurassic park’ with every step I took, believe me. And yes in hindsight she was out in the car park, so this may have been obvious, but I thought she may have been coming back. No. (Secretary at Drs surgery.) I wouldn’t have asked her out. I am not lesbionic. But she did have nice thighs ok? There I said it! But only in an, I want her thighs kind of way. Not in an, I want to… I want to what? Lick those thighs? Ergh. Gross. Moving on swiftly…definately not a lesbian. Not that there is anything wrong with bieng a lesbian. I wouldnt lick anyone’s thighs to be honest. I am going to stop talking about thighs now. This is not the point of this post. Lets move on.)
How many decisions do you make in a day? How many decisions do you make in a week? How many decisions do you make in a month or a year even? Decisions that, whether you believe or not, could essentially, potentially (and other words ending in ially) be affecting somebody’s life, whom you have never met?!
It is mental, is it not?
Or am I just finally losing the plot?
Did Woo get here by overcoming the odds, hand delivered (HA! Arse delivered more like!) By Fate?
Or am I a total lunatic? Over fantasising with too much time on my hands?
Because, I suppose, (Warning: I am off on one!) if Fate stepped in and ensured my little boy is here today, then was it fate that broke my boiler and ensured a frozen night of hell? What purpose did that serve? Did me calling the boiler man with 2 earrings change his life in some unforeseen way? Did he have to change his plans? Did me shouting ‘PLEASE HELP ME, I AM FREEEEZINNNGGGG’ startle him? Did he make a Uturn on the road? Did he cause somebody else to be late by doing this? Did this affect somebody else’s (let’s call her Jane) life in some way? Is Jane late to pick her kids up? Because of my boiler does Jane get home late and miss an important phone call? Does Jane miss out on a job offer she has been waiting for? Does Jane cry at the missed opportunity because my boiler broke? But I have never even met Jane? Why didn’t she call the company and apologise for missing the call? Will Jane now, never be a manager? Will Jane be ok? Why was the boiler man wearing earrings in both ears? (I was just genuinely perturbed by that last one.) And why in god’s name, after all this, is my boiler still broken!!! (Perturbed by that too!)
But do you see what I mean?
I have plenty more too.
Why did the dog have a seizure and shit all over the carpet. What possible good could come from that?!
Why was the flight home as bumpy as a mountain road on a BMX? What impact did that have on the universe? Did my screaming ‘we are all going to dieeeeee’ cause Jon is row 4 to shit his pants on his honeymoon, therefore stopping the conception of his child as his new wife ran away repulsed?
Why did my bloody boiler break? (I cannot move on. I AM COLD!)
Why did I sprain my wrist by falling off the side of a tram stop? Did my embarrassment and subsequent holding back of the tears, while gasping, ‘I am fine, no really, I am fine’ and limping away change the rotation of the earth in some way? Did two people look at one another to share a secret little giggle at my expense and then fall madly in love?
Well if they did? They can sod off.
My wrist is killing. (blogging warrior!)
So what is the point in this post?
I have no idea, but if you hadn’t read it what would you have been doing?
See I have changed your day!
Go do what you would have been doing!!! Stop reading!!!
I can’t handle the pressure!!
And send me a picture of your thighs.
(I am joking obviously.)
Or am I?