The Decision to Dig
I was in a state, man. It was late October 2020. Everything felt like it was moving sideways, not forward. I had just had the most ridiculous, gut-wrenching argument with my landlord about a broken boiler, and I was just sitting there, totally defeated, staring at the internet. I felt like the whole year had been one big cosmic joke, and I was the punchline.
I remembered seeing this stupid article that popped up on my feed right around that time. It was one of those standard clickbait pieces, something like, “Virgo November 2020: Key Dates Revealed for Major Life Shifts.” I usually ignore that stuff, but my life felt so out of control, I just clicked it. I think I laughed out loud at the time. I wrote down the three dates they kept hammering about on a sticky note, just to mock them later, maybe frame it as a joke on my refrigerator.
Except I didn’t frame it. I left it stuck to my monitor. And as November rolled in, my brain kept going back to those predictions. It wasn’t about believing in the stars; it was about having a measurable yardstick, even a stupid one, to compare my actual chaos against. I needed a project, something to make sense of the mess, and this ridiculous horoscope gave me the starting gun.
The Messy Sourcing and Correlation
My first step, the actual practice, was going full detective mode. Since I had lost the original article, I had to hunt it down again. I spent a good two hours wading through Google cache and my old browsing history just to pull up the original three “key dates” and the cheesy descriptions that went with them. One was flagged for “financial opportunity,” another for “relationship tension,” and the third for a “major unexpected event.” Pretty broad, right? That was the fun part.
Then came the real work. I opened up my old digital files. I had to merge three different sources of my life history for that month:
- My personal handwritten planner notes (scanned them in, they were a disaster).
- My Google Calendar entries from that time, which included all my work meetings, doctor appointments, and basic errands.
- The bank statements and the trail of text messages I sent and received for the entire 30 days.
I created a spreadsheet. It was rough, just three columns. Left column was the date. Middle column was My Actual Event Log—a simple phrase summarizing the biggest thing that happened that day, even if it was just “fixed the boiler finally” or “massive fight with Greg.” The right column was reserved for checking those three “Key Dates” and seeing what the hell actually went down. I was determined not to fudge the data. It had to be an event that was actually memorable for that day, not something I invented to fit the pattern.
The Clumsy Results of the Practice
The practice itself proved more illuminating than any prediction. It showed me how much useless stuff clogs up my memory, but also how many crucial details I instantly forget. I found that I was totally wrong about when certain things happened. My memory had shifted events by two or three days.
I looked at the first key date. The article had promised a “financial opportunity.” I checked my records. On that exact day, I had two things happen: I paid a huge dental bill, and I got a refund for a returned shirt. It was a complete wash. Not a life-changing “opportunity,” just a Tuesday. The spreadsheet laughed at the prediction.
The second date, the “relationship tension” one. I was ready to see a breakdown here. I checked my log. That day, I did have a huge argument—but it wasn’t with my partner or my friends. It was with the cable company over an inflated bill. It was tense, yes, but not “relationship” tense in the way they meant. Close, but a fail on the details.
But then the third one hit. This was the date marked for the “major unexpected event.” I checked the record. That was the day my car broke down on the highway, totally out of the blue, requiring a huge, expensive tow and a lot of immediate drama. It was absolutely unexpected and major, forcing me to shift plans entirely. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at the screen for ten minutes. The prediction was spot on, not in detail, but in impact.
What I Actually Learned
So what was the point of this whole dumb exercise? It wasn’t about whether astrology is real. It was about realizing that I needed to do a better job keeping my own records straight. I wasn’t tracking my own emotional peaks or financial cycles; I was letting someone else try to do it with vague forecasts.
The entire practice showed me that my biggest weakness was my own memory and lack of a cohesive log. I needed a better logbook, not a better psychic. I tossed the predictive stuff and started creating a more serious, daily personal log going forward, including financial movements and emotional states, just so I could track my own life patterns, not the stars’. That’s the real shift that came out of staring at those three key dates.
