I’m sure I can’t be the only one this has happened to. Have you ever, belly full of MSG sesame chicken, dumplings and egg rolls, gone to open that waxy looking folded cookie, and then seen…
Avoid compulsively making things worse.
I took that as a clear sign to put the leftovers away before I had to loosen my belt and unzip my pants.
The next fortune lulled me into a false sense of security with its normal, zen-like reassurance:
You are the controller of your destiny.
…Does this mean Second Husbands are a go?
But then this fortune happened:
Silence is a virtual. Especially Dinner time, from telemarketers.
Well, I guess the cookie has a point – silence is virtual (virtually unheard of) when it comes to telemarketers.
I don’t even eat the cookies (you are not a cookie, fortune cookie! For the love of Samoas, go talk to some Girl Scouts!), but at this point I had to keep going. And then it came. The fortune that’s making me lose sleep at night:
You can’t possibly live long enough to make all of them yourself.
All of what?! What am I supposed to be making? Oh god. This has something to do with turning 30 later this month, doesn’t it? I’m supposed to be making something, something only people in their 30s know about. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. What’s going to happen? Will I be allowed to live long enough to try?
Someone help me. Please.
So. Who’s out to get you?
Go Jules Go 