Man, where do I even start with this mess? This whole project, reviewing eight-year-old astrology predictions, started because I was trying to find an old receipt for a broken toaster oven. I was digging around in a file server I hadn’t touched since I moved houses, and bam—I stumbled right into a folder labeled “Personal Dump 2015.”
I clicked it open, and buried under hundreds of vacation photos and blurry scans of old utility bills, I found this single ancient screenshot. It was from one of those super janky astrology websites, predicting Virgo’s monthly outlook for September 2015. I remember saving it because it promised I’d get a huge financial break that month. I laughed, because I was flat broke in September 2015.
The Messy Process of Digging Up the Past
That screenshot just wouldn’t leave my head. I thought, “How many of these ridiculous things did I actually believe back then?” So I decided to embark on this totally unnecessary deep dive. My mission: retrieve every major Virgo monthly forecast for all of 2015 and match them against my actual documented life events. Sounds easy, right? It wasn’t.
First, I had to hunt down the original forecasts. I couldn’t just search Google, because those prediction pages shift every year. I used historical web archives and spent hours clicking through dated snapshots. I eventually managed to pull up three reliable (well, ‘reliable’ for astrology) monthly sources that covered all twelve months. That gave me 36 major monthly summaries, each usually broken down into three categories: love, money, and career. We’re talking over 100 specific claims to verify.
Then came the truly miserable part: verifying my own life. I needed my 2015 diary. The problem? I used three different platforms that year. I spent the next weekend wrestling with login credentials I thought I’d forgotten forever. I painfully exported text logs from a journaling app that barely exists anymore. I also dragged up old bank statements and credit card bills—the kind that show you just how financially irresponsible you were eight years ago. Ouch.
Scoring the Hits and Misses
I created this enormous spreadsheet that I nicknamed “The Cosmic Scorecard.” It was color-coded and everything. I listed out the specific predictions on the left, and then I assigned a score based on my evidence:
- 1 point: Clear, undeniable hit. Event happened exactly as described.
- 0.5 points: Fuzzy hit. Something similar happened, but maybe a month later or not quite as big.
- 0 points: Total miss. Nothing remotely close occurred.
- -1 point: Complete opposite. Predicted success, got a catastrophe.
The scoring took me ages. I’d sit there trying to match up “Major new romantic connection begins in late February” with my own records. Late February 2015? I checked my texts—nope, I was just nursing a terrible cold and arguing with a utility company. That was a big fat zero.
But then I hit gold with the June predictions. Two separate forecasts promised a major breakthrough related to a project I’d been stalling on. And when I checked the timestamps on my files, sure enough, I signed the papers on my first successful freelance gig right on June 28th. One point for the stars.
The money predictions were almost universally hilarious misses. Every single month promised wealth. My bank statements showed the opposite. I calculated that I spent nearly $400 on take-out that year, while the cosmos were assuring me that “financial abundance is on its way.” I gave most of those a zero, maybe even a minus one for teasing me so aggressively.
The Final Tally and What I Learned
After nearly a week of cross-referencing, verifying, and grumbling, I tallied up the final score. Out of 108 specific, verifiable claims across the three sources, the total weighted score was surprisingly low. It wasn’t zero, but the hit rate was about 15%. Most of the hits were so vague they could have applied to any person in any month—things like “You will feel pressure at work” or “Communication challenges arise early in the month.” Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious.
The best part of this whole unnecessary exercise wasn’t the astrology itself—which is clearly nonsense—but the invaluable history lesson I got about my own life. I saw exactly where I was, emotionally and financially, eight years ago. I re-read those hopeful entries and those panicked emails. It gave me a serious appreciation for how far I’ve come since that stressful year.
I archived the spreadsheet and the old forecasts. I guess what I learned is that whether the stars align or not, the only thing that really counts is whether you bothered to write down what you were doing. Otherwise, eight years later, you wouldn’t have anything to compare against the cosmic fibs.
