Man, let me tell you, I basically hit a wall. For about two years, I was grinding on this side hustle—building simple templates and tools. I’d spend weeks building something killer, feel all pumped up, and then just throw it out there on the internet. And nothing. Crickets.
I felt like I was working double time for zero payoff. I was starting projects, pushing them live, and they’d just die the moment they hit the light of day. I started wondering if I was cursed or something. I’d already checked my code, checked my marketing copy, checked the whole damn thing fifty times. It was solid. So I started looking for an edge, any edge at all.
I stumbled across this idea—this very simple, ancient concept—about timing. My sign is Virgo. We’re all about the details, the process, the making sure the nuts and bolts are tight. Which is why it drove me nuts that my process wasn’t delivering. That’s when I forced myself to start this weird practice I’m sharing today. I figured, what’s the harm? If it’s BS, I wasted five minutes a day.
Logging the Grind: The First Six Months
I went full Virgo on the whole thing. I needed data. It wasn’t just about reading the typical “Virgo this week you might feel organized” crap. I wanted to see where my actual energy was being directed by the cosmic forces, and then compare that to my real-world results.
I set up a super basic log. No fancy spreadsheets, just a notebook, and later, a basic text file. It had four columns:
- Date & Day of Week: Pretty obvious.
- Reported Focus: What the major sources were saying was the week’s theme (e.g., “Communication,” “Home Life,” “Finance,” “Rest”).
- Main Action Taken: What I launched, pitched, or seriously started (e.g., “Wrote major cold email pitch,” “Pushed new feature live,” “Started writing ebook outline”).
- Immediate Result (1-3 days out): Did it stick? Did it crash? Did I get zero replies? I rated it a simple Fail, Okay, or Win.
I kept this log running for six months straight. I didn’t try to change my behavior at first. I just logged. I wanted a true baseline. I was still launching projects haphazardly—whenever I finished them, usually a late Friday afternoon because I was eager to get it off my desk.
I noticed a pattern fast, but I had to fight my own habits to confirm it. The days that were supposed to be “good for communication” were fantastic for getting replies, but terrible for launching a complex tool. The tool would have a bug, the server would hiccup—it was always something. My focus was on talking, not the details of the deployment. Makes sense, right?
The Breakthrough: Finding the Launch Window
Once I sat down and crunched the data after that initial six months, the picture became crystal clear.
The Fail columns piled up on two distinct focus themes:
First, anytime the focus was heavily on the 6th House stuff (daily routine, health, minor service work). I felt busy, but everything was small, fragmented work. If I launched something big then, I’d miss crucial details.
Second, the 12th House stuff (rest, subconscious, tying up loose ends). If I was feeling spaced out and trying to rest, launching a project was suicide. It always crashed. I was too tired to QA it properly.
But the Win column? It was almost exclusively clustered around one specific transit that happens once per week for our sign, Virgo. It’s when the weekly focus shifts heavily towards the 10th House—Career, Public Image, Long-term Goals. This is the big stuff. This is when the Universe is telling my detail-oriented self to stop messing with the small stuff and look at the bigger strategic picture.
It sounds cheesy, but I mapped out the days. For my energy and my location, that 10th House transit consistently landed on a window between late Tuesday afternoon and early Thursday morning. It wasn’t always the same day, but it was always in that 36-hour window.
I committed to a new rule: I would finish the project by Monday, but I would launch it only during that special window.
The Proof is in the Projects
The first major test? I had a new lead magnet, a huge complex spreadsheet tool that needed to be perfect. I finished it Sunday night, ready to hit the “go” button, like always. I stopped myself. I forced myself to wait until Wednesday at 1 PM.
I hit launch.
That day, the weekly focus had shifted squarely to “public presentation and legacy.” Within 48 hours, I had a flood of sign-ups—more than my previous three launches combined. The system was clean, the server held, and the emails went out without a hitch. The difference was night and day.
It wasn’t magic. It was just me aligning my effort with my optimal mental state. I realized my “best day for new projects” isn’t random. For Virgos, it’s the day we stop being the meticulous intern and step into the role of the strategic CEO. That alignment is what cuts through the noise. I’m not saying you have to believe in the stars, but my log entries don’t lie. If you’re a Virgo struggling with project launch timing, trust me, start tracking that specific Tuesday-Thursday window. It changed my income flow, and it’s all thanks to six months of obsessive logging.
I keep the log going, by the way. It’s non-negotiable now.
