Your Fortune Sucks.

I have a love/hate relationship with fortune cookies. To be more honest, a hate/hate relationship with them. I'd say about three years ago, I started getting malicious fortune cookies. At the very least, very apropos cookies that seemed to be taking at dig at some aspect of my life that was bothering me.  They had it out for me. They wanted to ruin my day and my self esteem. They were sentient, and there was no other possible explanation.

Once I got the gem "You don't get what you want, you get what you are." What the hell, fortune cookie? I didn't do anything to you and you get all judgey on me. I thought maybe it was the particular restaurant. A bad batch? A vengeful short order cook? Something. Next fortune cookie, different restaurant, "You will get a parking ticket." I kid you not. And then guess what.  I did. After that, I quit fortune cookies. That's a lie, but they continued to be ass hats. I had a more, but definitely stopped getting Chinese as much.

So, life turned around a bit, I moved, and found a Chinese place that didn't give fortune cookies. Safety at last! Until your restaurant decides to not be open on a Saturday afternoon and the only thing in the world that is going to cure your hangover is some beef lo mein. I ordered, and there it was. A fortune cookie. I ate my food and stared that thing down. I busted its little cookie body open and read what it said.

From bad ones, to ones worth printing. And, considering life, still completely on point, but kinda like an edible motivational speaker now.