Last night I ordered delivery from Big Lantern.  The General Tso's meatless chicken.  It was good.  Not their best, but good.

After my meal, I put my plate in the kitchen sink and opened up my fortune cookie.  “Compliment three people every day.”  Certainly not a “fortune,” but undoubtedly a step up from the bland proverbs inside most modern-day cookies.  My roommate is in the kitchen.  The straight one.  He's been sick for a while, so I give my first compliment.  “You look really good today!”  He looks puzzled.  I show him the fortune.  He reads the fortune.  He figures out that I wasn't complimenting him, but just fulfilling the command given to me by a 55 millimeter-long piece of paper.  He frowns.

I find four people in the living room.  One is a 20-something fashionable woman living in the Mission District whose interests are design and typography.  Some might call her a hipster.  I tell her that her top looks really amazing.  She expresses gratitude.  I turn to the person sitting next to her.  He's holding a bong.  I tell him I liked his latest facebook update about Timecop actually being a decent movie.  He replies, “word.”

I then look to the two remaining people in the room.  I tell them my quota has been filled.  Their faces appear puzzled.  The same look a dog gets when you put dry Ramen in their dish or tell them in a really loud, sweet voice that you are going to abort their puppies.  (Please don't ask about that).  I leave the room feeling good.  Fulfilled even.

Today I have a fever and feel like complete shit.