Okay so this crazy thing happened last week – I woke up sweaty after dreaming I got fired. Again. Figured maybe the stars had something to say, ya know? Pulled up this Virgo career luck thing for July 2025 on some random site while chugging cold coffee.
First step was plain stupid simple: I just printed the dang thing out. Grabbed my dusty notebook – the one with the taco grease stain from 2024 – and a red pen like I was grading homework. Felt like a detective hunting clues about my own dang job.
The prediction said stuff like:
- “Venus favors bold asks! Demand that raise!”
- “Mercury retrograde ends July 3rd – FINALLY send risky emails!”
- “Network near water fountains brings luck!” (Seriously?)
So I tried it. All of it. Tuesday morning, right after the retrograde deadline? Marched into Dave’s office (my boss). Heart pounding like a drum. Slapped my “performance notes” down hard. Cleared my throat real loud. “Dave,” I said, sounding kinda squeaky, “My contributions… they deserve… uh… financial recognition!” His eyes went wide like I’d asked for his kidney. Silence. Then he just grunted “We’ll… circle back, Brenda.” Dude looked horrified. Ran back to my desk feeling like I’d stripped naked.
Water fountain networking? Ha! Thursday, I camped out by that sad plastic thing near accounting. Leaned way too casual. Cheryl walked by filling her mug. “Nice… uh… water pressure today, huh?” I offered. She blinked slow. “It’s a fountain, Brenda. It drips.” Then just walked off. Roger stopped, took one look at me hovering, spun right around. Got zero connections. Did get a weird rep for being thirsty.
Biggest fail though? That “Send bold emails” promise. Shot off this passionate pitch directly to the CEO Friday afternoon – skipped like three approval layers. Screenshot that garbage horoscope right in the dang email body like PROOF. Monday? Got a meeting invite. Not from the CEO. From HR. And Dave. They spent twenty “friendly minutes” reminding me about “Communication Protocols.” Dave kept staring at his shoes. My face burned hotter than Mercury’s core.
What’s the takeaway? Stars don’t pay bills. Or make Dave give raises. Or teach you how to network by a dribbly fountain. My “bold asks” landed me in Protocol Timeout. Whole month I felt like a nervous chihuahua chasing cosmic squirrels. Maybe next time I dream I’m fired, I’ll just… get a better pillow. And hide my horoscope printouts BEFORE coffee.
