Man, let me tell you, I was utterly sick and tired of all the fluffy, clickbait nonsense calling itself a “weekly reading.” Every time I’d click on one, it was the same vague promises: “A big surprise is coming!” or “Unexpected money is near!” Total garbage. We’re Virgos, right? We’re practical people. We don’t need crystal balls and vague hopes. We need a to-do list. We need actionable steps. We need to know what task to tackle next to stop the overthinking.
I just snapped one day. I decided I was going to do it myself. I wasn’t trying to be some fancy “reader” or guru. I just wanted to share what actually worked for me when my brain felt like it was chewing itself up over my relationship. My practice started very simply: a resolution to be the most brutally honest, no-nonsense source of love advice every single Sunday morning. That became my schedule. No excuses. I had to create and publish it before noon, or it just wouldn’t get done, and the anxiety monster would win.
Setting Up the System (The Sunday Morning War)
I had to lock down a routine. The first few weeks were a complete disaster. I was trying to sound too official, too spiritual. I was using big words and quoting things I didn’t understand. I threw all that right out the window. My practice became purely operational: I sit down at the kitchen table, grab my usual black coffee, and I treat the whole thing like a deep-dive project review. I am reviewing the Love Department for the next seven days.
The entire focus narrowed down pretty quickly to just love and relationships, because let’s be real, that’s where we Virgos mess up the most. We analyze everything until it collapses. We criticize with love, and somehow, that doesn’t always land well. So, the system I built, the practice I followed, was designed to stop the endless loop of analysis and just force some practical application. No more vague predictions.
I started with a simple layout. I call it the “Four Fix-It Steps.” I pull my deck, but I’m not pulling for future telling. I’m pulling for accountability and assignment. I actually verbalize the assignment as I pull each card. That’s the core of my weekly discipline.
- Card One: The Annoying Obstacle This Week. We gotta name the monster first. What mundane thing is going to blow up because we ignored it? I focus only on small, relationship-based friction.
- Card Two: The Practical Step To Take. This is the meat of the report. It’s the action item. This can be as boring as “send the email you’ve been putting off” or “set a timer for 15 minutes and just listen.” Zero fluff allowed.
- Card Three: The Internal Mechanism Holding You Back. Because I know better than anyone, it’s always us. We are our own worst enemy. This step is about pointing out the self-sabotage tactic we’re about to use.
- Card Four: The Small, Immediate Win. Something you can actually accomplish and feel good about by Friday. A measurable success, not a feeling.
I really lean into the practical stuff. I remember the week when the “obstacle” card was about feeling unappreciated—that classic Virgo feeling that nobody notices the dozen small things we do to keep life running. And the practical step? It was literally: Stop doing things silently. Instead of sighing and cleaning up the mess, tell your partner exactly what you’re doing and why you need five minutes to do it. It doesn’t sound romantic, but that’s real-life, sustainable Virgo love advice. It stops the resentment before it starts brewing. That’s what the practice is all about: pre-emptive maintenance.
The Messy Reality of Sharing
It takes me about three hours every Sunday morning to go through this whole process, write up the notes, check them once for tone—I need it to sound like I’m talking over the fence to a neighbor—and then I just hit the publish button. I refuse to proofread it a second time because if I do, I will overthink the whole thing and trash it. That’s my internal battle every single week.
The best part is honestly reading the comments. It’s wild. At first, you always get the skeptics, the ones saying it’s generic or too harsh. But then, slowly, the people who actually tried the assignment start rolling in. It happened a few months ago—one woman wrote a lengthy message saying she’d been fighting with her husband about budgeting, and when she followed the tip to “create a shared document with zero emotional commentary,” everything calmed right down. See? Practical. It worked.
This whole weekly ritual, this practice, isn’t about telling anyone their future. It’s my self-imposed homework assignment, and I’m just sharing my notes with everyone else doing the same course. It forces me to stay grounded and focus on those small, boring, repetitive actions that actually sustain a relationship, instead of just waiting for some grand cinematic moment of love.
I keep doing it because, frankly, when I stop, I start to feel that anxious hum of over-analysis returning. Sharing the list forces me to execute the list myself. It’s the ultimate accountability partner. It’s hard work every week, and sometimes I want to quit, but then I remember the garbage I used to read online, and I just pour another cup of coffee and get back to work.
