Honestly? When I first heard chatter about Virgos having big career shifts in 2024, I kinda shrugged it off. But then, things at my own job started feeling… off. Like that awkward silence before a storm hits. My manager started acting weird, projects I loved got shuffled away, and the gossip mill went nuts about restructuring. So yeah, I figured, maybe it’s time to actually do something instead of just waiting for the axe to fall.
My Panic Phase (Totally Human, Right?)
My first move? Full-on panic, obviously. Scrolled through doom-filled forums late at night, drank way too much coffee, and basically stressed myself into a knot. Wasted a good week there. Then, one bleary-eyed morning, I just stopped. This wasn’t helping. I needed a plan, not more caffeine jitters.
Dug out an old notebook – the one I used when planning my veggie garden, ironically – and started scribbling. Here’s the messy, totally non-expert stuff I actually did:
- Brain Dumped EVERYTHING: Seriously, just opened the floodgates. What sucked about my current role? (Boring tasks, zero growth). What did I secretly wish I could do? (More creative problem-solving, helping people directly). What skills did I actually have? (Turns out, I was decent at explaining complex stuff simply and fixing team drama). Wrote it all down, no filter.
- Stalked Myself (Professionally): Updated that crusty LinkedIn profile I’d ignored for years. Looked back at old performance reviews. Even checked my sent emails for projects where people said “thanks, you saved me!” Trying to find patterns of what I was genuinely good at and liked.
- Had Awkward Coffee Chats: Reached out to three people who’d jumped ship recently – a former colleague, a friend-of-a-friend in a field I was curious about (UX stuff), and someone I barely knew who worked freelance. Asked simple stuff: “What’s the actual day-to-day like?” “Biggest headache?” “Anything you wish you knew before jumping?”. Got some real, sometimes brutal, answers.
- Played “What If?”: Based on my brain dump and coffee intel, I picked 3 rough paths. Path 1: Push hard internally for that boring-sounding-but-closer-to-my-interests compliance training role nobody wanted. Path 2: Grind on learning basic UX design evenings/weekends. Path 3: See if I could package my team-fixing skill as a tiny consultancy thing. Didn’t commit to any, just explored.
- Tiny Action Daily: This was key. Didn’t aim for giant leaps. Just something. One day it was rewriting one bullet point on LinkedIn. Another day, signing up for a free UX intro webinar. Another, sending that awkward “Hey, long time no see, got 15 mins?” email. Consistent, tiny nudges.
The Weirdly Calm Bit (Where Things Actually Happened)
Focusing on those small actions strangely took the panic edge off. While I was still waffling between paths, opportunity literally knocked. Remember Path 1? That internal training role? Turns out the person slated for it backed out last minute. My manager, knowing I’d recently (and loudly) complained about boring tasks, basically shoved me forward as a “temporary solution.” Didn’t feel glamorous, but hey, it was movement.
I went for it. Used my “explaining complex stuff simply” skill ruthlessly. Started applying the “fixing team drama” vibe to the training sessions. Threw in stuff I was learning about UX principles to make the materials less mind-numbing. It felt chaotic and messy, piecing together skills from my scribbles.
Where I’m At Now (Still Standing!)
It’s messy. Definitely not a clean, astrological “poof, new career!” thing. I’m still technically in the same company, just sideways. But the stagnation is gone. I get to use more of what I actually enjoy, even if the job title isn’t flashy. And crucially, I learned:
- Waiting for the stars to align is a suckers’ game. Action, any action, creates momentum.
- Knowing your actual, usable skills is power. Not fancy titles, but what you do well.
- Tiny steps beat grand plans stuck in your head. Just move. Adjust later.
Am I magically “ahead”? Dunno. But I’m definitely not just frozen, waiting for 2024’s career chaos to flatten me. Feels like I grabbed some boots instead of crying about the mud. Now, back to making these damn training slides less likely to induce comas…
