You know, looking back at 2018, that whole project, Your Simple Virgo Monthly Astrology 2018 Forecast for Success, didn’t start because I felt inspired by the stars. It started because I was broke, burnt out, and completely fed up with how complicated everyone makes prediction work. I had been neck-deep in corporate tech audits—just grinding numbers—and my brain was mush. I needed a passion project that I could actually finish and prove to myself I still had a creative bone in my body.
I needed structure, and Virgos—we live for structure. So I committed to creating something so simple, so actionable, that even I, in my zombie state, could follow it. I picked 2018 because the transits looked brutal, especially Saturn moving through Capricorn. People needed a clear roadmap, not mystical nonsense. I decided: monthly, simple, success-focused.
The Messy Start: Gathering the Raw Data
First thing I did was dig up my old, dusty astronomy software. We’re talking ancient Solar Fire, version 9, running on a clunky backup laptop. I wasn’t going to trust some online widget. I printed out the 2018 ephemeris—actual paper, because I needed to physically highlight the damn movements. This wasn’t just looking up the sun sign; I mapped out all the major ingress points for Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars for the entire year.
The core focus was Virgo success, which, let’s be real, often means mastering their routines, their health, and their work environment (the 6th house stuff). I plotted out where Saturn would grind their productivity, and crucially, where Jupiter would offer temporary relief or expansion. The real kicker was Mars. That 2018 Mars retrograde in Aquarius and Capricorn was going to absolutely destroy routine and work hierarchies for Virgos. I knew that was the key to success—navigating the inevitable workplace meltdown.
I spent the first week just translating celestial coordinates into human problems. I scratched out pages of notes. My initial drafts were just terrible—full of jargon like “Trine to Uranus in Taurus!” I chucked about 90% of it into the recycling bin. I demanded from myself: What does this mean if I have to file my taxes or fix a leaky sink? That was the filter.
The Execution: Building the Monthly Framework
My methodology was brutal efficiency. Every month needed one strong verb and three bullet points. That’s it. Anything more and it loses the “Simple” mandate. I structured the workflow like this:
- Identifying the Core Transit: What major planet is doing the heavy lifting or causing the most trouble that month?
- Determining the Action Area: Which house/life area does this impact for a standard Virgo chart?
- Assigning the Command: What is the non-negotiable action they must take? (e.g., February: Audit. April: Prioritize. August: Retreat.)
I started typing up the Q1 forecasts, feeling pretty good. January and February went smoothly. Then I hit March, and suddenly I realized I hadn’t properly factored in the confusing Neptune opposition. It muddies the waters for Virgos’ sense of identity. I wrestled with how to frame “success” when the very concept feels slippery. I eventually settled on “Clarify Your Vision,” which basically translates to “Stop daydreaming and make a list.”
The Mid-Year Disaster and Recovery
Just when I was deep into Q3—the complex stuff involving that Mars retrograde—my laptop decided to fry. Just smoke and dead silence. I hadn’t backed up the latest draft of the July and August forecasts. I just sat there, staring at the useless piece of metal, feeling like the universe was actively trying to sabotage my “Success” forecast.
I had to rebuild those two crucial months entirely from memory and the messy handwritten notes I had scrawled on the back of old takeout menus. I spent an extra two days just trying to remember the exact wording I’d used for July’s advice on confronting difficult co-workers. I pushed through the sheer frustration, remembering why I started: to deliver reliable, no-fluff advice.
For the final quarter, I focused hard on Jupiter entering Sagittarius. That transit meant home and family expansion. Success wasn’t just about spreadsheets anymore; it was about building a better nest. I changed the focus from strict office metrics to tangible domestic improvements and financial planning for the future. I wrapped up the final edits at 3 AM one morning, completely exhausted but satisfied. I published the whole thing without fanfare, just dumped it onto my old blog platform and went to bed.
The feedback was immediate and unexpected. People didn’t comment on the elegant astrological geometry. They commented on the directness. “Yes, I did need to reorganize my entire kitchen in February,” one person wrote. “I finally fired that awful client in May just like you suggested.” That’s when I realized: the simpler, the rougher, the more focused on real-life tasks you make it, the more people actually use it. It proved that sometimes, the most complex information needs the most straightforward delivery, even if the process of getting there is a total chaotic mess.
