Here it is, the inspiration for Fuck You Fortune Cookie. I was sitting across the table from my soon-to-be-ex-husband, after an extremely difficult conversation. Thank God I ate the cookie before I read this winner.

Here’s what I hate about this fortune. First of all, not true. Studies show (I’m sure there are studies, I Googled it) that our perception of time speeds up the older we get. So while your summer vacation felt like a solid three months when you were 10, it feels like about a week and a half when you’re the parent of a 10-year-old. Great. Growing old doesn’t take long at all. Once you’re in it, it’s an ever-accelerating freight train of awfulness.

Second of all, time slows WAY the fuck down when you’re miserable. I’ve been pretty consistently miserable since leaving my marriage 10 weeks ago. Those 10 weeks feel like they started about a year ago. My husband, also miserable, feels the same way. The passing of time when you’re unhappy is reminiscent of a super-slow-release fart. You know, the kind that squeeeeeeeeeaaak out in a long, slow stream of nastiness. Like misery, that fart is totally unsatisfying, and incidentally, it likely reeks to high heaven (at least for me, misery has resulted in a significant decline in my hygiene habits). So, if growing old DOES happen slowly, it’s probably because you are fucking miserable.

So yeah, fuck you, fortune cookie.