Man, 2020 feels like a lifetime ago, right? But I was doing some serious cleaning up in my digital archives last week—you know, finally moving files off the old dusty external hard drive—and I stumbled across this folder I completely forgot about. It was titled “2020 Life Planning,” full of ridiculous spreadsheets and goal trackers I’d spent hours making back in January 2020, before the world decided to just turn sideways.
Seeing that folder got me thinking about that whole chaotic year. Specifically, it reminded me of the absolutely massive, unplanned career change I was forced into that spring. I pivoted hard, completely ditching the stable corporate structure I’d spent fifteen years building and jumping headfirst into remote consulting and independent project management. It was terrifying, and honestly, it worked out way better than I could have ever imagined. But at the time? Pure panic.
The Trigger: Did the Stars Even Hint at the Crash?
I remembered something else, too. Back then, I was one of those people who, despite claiming to be entirely rational, always checked my weekly Virgo horoscope on Sunday night. Not because I believed it totally, but because it was a comforting ritual. So, staring at the remnants of my failed 2020 master plan, I decided to do a ridiculous experiment: I was going to find those exact weekly horoscopes from the critical period—February through April 2020—and check if the universe had sent me any warning flares about the dramatic shift that was coming, or if it was all just bog-standard, vague predictions.
This wasn’t quick. The first step was locating the actual texts. I had used two specific, well-known astrology websites religiously. Since I wasn’t going to spend money for their archives, I had to dig through my email trash folders and old cloud backups, because sometimes I would screenshot the relevant parts of the predictions and send them to myself for later reference. It took me a solid four hours over two evenings, but I managed to retrieve the exact weekly readings for Virgo starting from the week of February 17th, 2020, right up to the week of April 20th, 2020.
My practical record-keeping process involved printing out the weekly texts and color-coding them against the actual events that transpired in my life. I grabbed four highlighters:
- Yellow: Predictions related to Money/Work (The main subject of my catastrophe).
- Blue: Predictions related to Relationships/Home (The secondary stress).
- Green: Generic positive energy statements.
- Red: Statements that seemed entirely, hilariously wrong.
The Practice: Cross-Referencing Cosmos vs. Crisis
I started with February 2020. Everything was Green and Blue. The readings were all about “harmonious energy at home” and “taking slow, careful steps in financial planning.” I marked this section entirely Red because in reality, my wife and I were already bickering over some remodeling plans that fell apart, and my “careful financial planning” was about to be obliterated by a massive industry contraction.
The crucial period was the second half of March. This is when my company decided to dramatically restructure. I mean, not restructure—they decided to ditch my entire department with zero warning, effectively forcing me into this consulting gig I now love, but didn’t choose.
The prediction for the week of March 16th, 2020, was fascinating. I read the email saying my role was being made redundant on a Tuesday. The horoscope for that week focused heavily on “Communication challenges peaking around the 18th” and warned against “sudden upsets in long-term contracts or agreements.”
Look, this is where it gets interesting, but also totally frustrating. At the time, if I had read that warning, I would have assumed it meant a fight with my lawyer or maybe a landlord issue. But looking back now? That line about “sudden upsets in long-term contracts” was 100% accurate! It was a cold, clinical prediction of exactly what happened with my employment contract.
I dug into the Money/Career section for that week. It mentioned: “Be prepared to adapt quickly to new income streams, and don’t cling to old systems that no longer serve your future.” Seriously? That’s what the stars spit out? It sounded less like prophecy and more like the most basic, self-help advice you get when you’re facing a layoff. But I gave it a Yellow highlight because, in the end, it was technically true. I did adapt quickly to a new income stream.
The Conclusion: Were They Psychic or Just Vague?
By the time I reached the April readings, the tone had shifted entirely. They talked about “unexpected freedom” and “turning a crisis into an opportunity for independence.” This was after the fact, of course—I was already scrambling, interviewing for my first freelance projects, and feeling the bizarre mix of terror and exhilaration that comes with total freedom.
The practice taught me something important about how we process predictions, whether from the stars or from life coaches. When I was living through the chaos, the horoscopes felt uselessly general. They didn’t say, “Hey, Bob, on March 17th, your boss is going to call and fire you, but it’s okay, you’ll start making twice as much money as a consultant.” If they had, I would have planned for it.
But retroactively reviewing the documents? That’s where the human brain finds patterns. The vagueness suddenly looks like cosmic genius. That line about “long-term contracts” suddenly feels prophetic, not because the universe knew I’d lose my job, but because the prediction was broad enough to cover everything from a lease agreement to an employment contract. The stars didn’t predict the outcome of my layoff, they just provided a giant umbrella under which any major life change could shelter.
The true prediction was the one I made myself by being forced to act. I checked my weekly horoscope, and it confirmed what I already suspected after the fact: Astrology is a great mirror, but a terrible window. Still, it was a fascinating deep-dive into the archives of chaos. I’m keeping the color-coded printouts. A good reminder not to worry too much about what the stars say next week, but to worry about what actions I’m taking right now.
