Fate or whinyness?

There are times I wonder about the existance of fate.

I mean, I believe in a God. I don't exactly subscribe to a free-for-all view of the universe, with fate shifting things around and whacking things and throwing jelly onto unsuspecting members of the public (although I always want to know: How do I become a member of the private? Because all this stuff happens to members of the public like being asked to participate in surveys and being held hostage and budget cuts and suchlike. I bet members of the private get to bounce on bouncy roads and eat chocolate without getting fat and sleep on clouds and and and suchlike. And they never ever freak out when they see an accident, even though it's obvious everyone is ok and they'll just need to get a new car because woah is that messed up, because when you're a member of the private (And I have just realised that sounds vaguely rude) you get to be a super person who helps and everything!) (Then again, maybe members of the private are paramedics. Paramedics with great matresses.)

But sometimes I wonder.

Par example:

This morning I woke up from the best sleep I've had in ages (yay!) at 4.30 am. I was then not able to get back to any kind of sleep (ah.) and teh brain gerbils are lethargic but still working way, ticking over and annoying me with questiions such as 'What's the name of that statue by the knitting shop? The one of Mary. You know, The Mary. It's Our Lady of summat... we'll call her Our Lady of Wool Shop."
"Yeah, like that's properly respectful."
"She's situated in an alleyway that smells of pee and is knee deep in cigarette butts and gum. I don't think respect is one of her top priorities."
"Doesn't mean it shouldn't be one of yours."
"You're a pain and I hate you. And you smell."
"Well, that's mature."
"Mature?! We're trapped in the brain of a crazy person and you want me to be MATURE?!"

And so on.

So I got up, got breakfast because I was starving, and got on the computer. It was roughly six am by the time I gave up on tossing and turning, and then I discovered many things about the universe to appease half the gerbils. Did you know in butchery when a steak is dry aged it's got to be kept in specific conditions so it doesn't go mouldy, but instead gets this black crust on it which is kinda gross but is why aged steak tastes better than not-aged steak? And that these conditions sort of explain why this piece of meat that's been aged since the dawn of time can't be eaten any time after tomorrow or it will somehow be all wrong?

Neither did I. But now I do. Because of gerbils.

I have no desire to be a butcher. None whatsoever. I mean, it must be an awesome and satisfying job, don't get me wrong, but I'm clumsy as all get out. Give me a knife that's designed to cut through flesh, let alone a bandsaw, and someone's going to lose a limb. Most likely more than one. If it's raining they might lose their entire body.

Frankly, it's up there with pilot, brain surgeon and astronaut in the jobs-I-can't-do-for-the-safety-of-humans catagory. Ooh! Also sword fighter instructor person. That would lead to badness.

And then my entire family make their various pilgramages through my room to check I'm still, you know, breathing and have taken my myriad of pills and suchlike, and all express the surprise that I'm awake and I nod, and actually I'm feeling a little (more than a little) ill. Because I ate breakfast. (Apparently this is part of my thyroid madness. If I eat anything before ten or eleven am I feel awful. Which is odd, because my body can't usually tell what time it is ever ever ever, especially when it's time to go places.)

And then me and mum go in search of the elusive knitting needle, because there will be more open now. So we go to three wool shops, and find it in one. Yay! Thing is, it's chucking down rain and my shoe has a hole in it and the infected but on my leg (which is incredibly gross) has started to peel like incredibly bad sunburn only more gross. And I'm not supposed to pick it. But GAH. It's so satisfying! (sorry, you didn't need to know that.)

And this is why I require knitting.

And yeah, maybe fate doesn't exist and I'm just whiny. Because I'm tired. Because the gerbils woke me up at 4.30.

I blame the gerbils. I'd blame Geraldine, but she could so take me in a fight.