This May, I decided to finally check if this horoscope crap actually holds any water.
I’ll tell you straight up, I usually just scroll past it. But I was stuck in a rut. You know those days, where you are waiting on one piece of paper, one email, or one person to make a move, and everything else is just stalled? That was me the whole start of April. I was watching my financials closely, needed a specific green light on a project, and frankly, I was just bored with the waiting game.
So, one slow Tuesday, while I was screwing around instead of working on a useless spreadsheet, this Virgo Monthly Horoscope for May popped up on my feed. I saw the headline: “Check Your Luckiest Week Now!” I thought, You know what? I’m going to track it. Prove it’s either a load of complete nonsense or maybe—just maybe—there’s a pattern, even a broken one.
My approach was simple. I called it the “Triple-Check Elimination Process.”
The Messy Start: Gathering the “Data”
I didn’t want to rely on one source. That’s like asking one programmer what language they prefer—you only get one answer, and it’s usually biased. I went to three of the biggest-name astrology sites I could find—the ones that look all glossy and sell crystals. I decided to pull every single “key date” they had listed for May for the Virgo sign.
What a mess. Each site had different key dates, and the descriptions were so vague they could apply to anyone. One said, “A pivotal conversation arises around the 4th,” another said, “Expect unexpected news near the 15th,” and the third focused on “domestic bliss and home matters after the 20th.”
I opened up a fresh Google Sheet—just the basics, columns and rows, no fancy formulas. I put in the dates 1 through 31. Then I created three columns for the three sources. For every date, I entered a simple code based on their prediction:
- L (Luck): If they mentioned money, opportunity, or travel.
- C (Challenge): If they mentioned conflict, obstacles, or slow progress.
- N (Neutral): Everything else (like “a good day for introspection” or “time with family”).
This is where it got ridiculous. Some days had L, C, and N all mashed together. One site would call the 10th a “major opportunity day,” and another would say “a financial setback is possible.” It was a complete contradiction. It reminded me of trying to get three different IT departments to agree on an infrastructure solution—total chaos. They all think they’re right, but they are speaking three different languages.
The Filter and the Test: Creating My Own Scorecard
I realized I had to filter this junk down. I developed my own system, just like when I build a quick utility tool for a simple task—don’t overcomplicate it. If two out of the three sources agreed on L for “Luck,” I marked the date with a +2. If two agreed on C for “Challenge,” it was a -2. Any other combination was a 0 (Neutral) or a +1 (Slight Uplift) if one L was present. I didn’t want any -1s, I just wanted to see the extremes.
After running this quick filter, my sheet finally looked manageable. I came up with these results:
- Luckiest Week (Highest + score days): May 12th to May 18th.
- Most Challenging Period (Highest – score days): May 2nd to May 5th.
My initial thought? Whatever. I’ll just live my life and record what happens.
For the entire month of May, I carried a small notebook. Every night before I shut down the lights, I wrote down three things: what happened related to my stalled project, any unexpected communication (good or bad), and how I generally felt about my money situation that day. The key was to be brutally honest and not try to force the horoscope to be right.
The Realization: Tracking the Absolute BS
May 2nd to 5th came and went. Did I face challenges? Yes. The paperwork I was waiting on was delayed. Was it a “major financial setback?” Nope. Just annoying. My “challenging period” was really just a slow period. I chalked that up as the typical vagueness of horoscopes.
Then came the Luckiest Week, the 12th to the 18th. I was still half-skeptical. On the 14th, two things happened that made me stop and actually look at the sheet again.
The first thing: That specific green light I needed for the project finally came through. Not only did it come through, but the client also agreed to the slightly higher fee I had been sitting on. It was totally unexpected. The second thing: I opened a letter from the tax office—the kind that usually means trouble—and instead, it was a totally legit, small refund I wasn’t expecting, finally being processed. Two L events, back-to-back, right in the middle of the “Luckiest Week.”
I went back and reviewed my entire log for the month. I discovered something interesting. The scattered “L” and “C” dates that didn’t make my final filtered list were all total garbage. Nothing happened, or the opposite happened. But my calculated “Luckiest Week,” the period where the three sources had the most consensus, actually delivered.
So, here’s the kicker. Do I believe in astrology now? Hell no. But I found out that by treating it like a technical problem—eliminating the noise and only focusing on the highest consensus points—I ended up confirming the window where things finally broke loose. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe all the astrologers are reading the same few planet positions and just phrasing them differently. The practice of tracking it, though, forced me to be more present and mindful that entire month. And that, I figured out, was the real “luck” I got out of it.
