Honestly? I never believed in horoscopes. But last January, my dating life felt drier than overcooked chicken, so I dug into that Virgo 2023 love forecast just for kicks. Here’s exactly how I butchered it.
The Awkward Start
First, the damn article said: “Organize Your Feelings Like Spreadsheets!” So I grabbed a notebook last Valentine’s Day and scribbled every crush I’d ever had since high school. Names, dates, why it flopped. Felt ridiculous, but okay. Organized chaos? Check.
Then came step two: “Communicate With Precision & Logic.” My brain went: “Right. Be a robot.” That Friday night, I texted Sarah—this librarian I liked—using bullet points:
- Reason for contact: Expressing interest in date
- Proposed activity: Coffee at Beans & Leaves (logical choice)
- Time efficiency: Saturday 10 AM (optimal post-breakfast slot)
She replied: “Are you applying for a job?” Epic fail. I almost torched the notebook.
The Messy Middle
Step three saved my ass: “Serve Love Through Practical Acts.” Fine. No poetry. Just…doing stuff. Sarah mentioned her dying plant once? Boom—next morning, I left a stupidly hardy succulent at her doorstep with a sticky note: “Harder to kill than us talking. -Virgo.” No signature. Just vibes.
She texted me that night: “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS??” Panicked. Thought I’d creeped her out. Then: “It’s hideous. I love it. Come over Sunday and help me repot it?” Miracles happen.
The Unexpected Win
We’ve been dating five months now. Surprise plot twist: She’s a Taurus. Horoscope said nothing about cross-sign compatibility. But here’s the tea:
- The “spreadsheet” nonsense? Useful for spotting my own awful patterns.
- Robot talk? Ditched it. Now I actually listen before opening my mouth.
- Practical acts? Still winning. Last week I fixed her leaky sink at 11 PM. Romance = plumbing. Who knew?
So yeah, the horoscope wasn’t magic. It was a kick in the pants to quit overthinking and just do something human. Even if that something is gifting a fugly plant.
