Every now and then I get a message in a fortune cookie that I feel compelled to save. I’m not a superstitious person; the reasons that I hang on to those little white slips of paper vary. Prophetic is good, but ironic or funny is even better.

While I was still unemployed I pulled “You will soon change careers” from a cookie. I tacked it up on my computer monitor. The months dragged on and I had to conclude that the translator had egg foo yung for brains. Still–it was a genuine fortune, which was a nice change from the usual “statement cookies” that are so pervasive nowadays.

Today at lunch I happily munched my way through my favorite Chinese food. Down at the other end of the lunch table, a lively debate about a current project gained momentum and volume. I ate and half-listened and mentally went over my to-do list for this weekend. At last the time to head back to my desk drew near, and I grabbed a cookie to delay the return to the grind.

I tried to stifle my giggles. In response to a raised eyebrow across the table, I passed the slip to my favorite coworker. She read it and promptly snorted up one of her chopsticks in her own effort not to laugh out loud.

The conversation that almost everyone else was participating in continued–oblivious to my plight–as I quietly vented my angst to further chortling.

“Hey,” I started out softly, leaning towards her, with as much urgency in my voice as I could muster. “My GOD, I think I’m feeling a–oh wait, sorry. False alarm. I thought I had, you know, an URGE to do something. But it was only the POTENTIAL. Nevermind. I was SO CLOSE but I think I’ll just go back to, you know, sitting on my ASS.”

Apparently my laziness achieves such heights, that even my fortune cookie knows that my very urges are only remote possibilities. Because the effort–OH, the effort!–to even bother desiring something… well… it’s a lot. Especially when I’m enjoying that post-Chinese-food overstuffed coma.

Peel me a grape? There’s a chance I may consider wanting one later.