What is it about Chinese fortunes? I know they’re meaningless, but if I get a good one, I believe it.
Some time last year, I got the fortune:
Your secret desire to completely
change your life will manifest.
How did this cookie know I want to change my life? It must be right!
Yes, I realize how stupid this is. But anyway, I held onto it.
Flash forward: two days ago, on the train, I put my purse down on the dry floor. When I picked it up, it was soaked in coffee. Just one of the many joys of the LIRR.
At work, when I was pulling everything out of my bag and Clorox wiping it, I found this:
Assuming, just for today, that I believe in signs from the universe, what is this one trying to tell me? Should I take it as a bad sign that my good fortune is now crinkled and brown?
I choose believe that the coffee purse was the universe’s way of making me find this fortune again, and reassuring me that everything’s going to work out.
Or, you know, of telling me to be more careful about where I leave my shit. Can’t learn that lesson enough.