You know, every year around late February, the internet absolutely explodes with “Spring Career Moves” articles. Everyone is ready to jump ship, get a raise, or pivot hard. I kept seeing all these headlines about how March was going to be the critical month for Virgos—that the planets were aligning for massive job upheaval. Total nonsense, right?
But here’s the thing: I’m a Virgo. And I run a pretty tight ship when it comes to tracking data. So I decided I needed to settle this once and for all. I wasn’t just going to read the headlines; I was going to test them against reality.
The Setup: Getting the Data to Prove the Stars are Lying
I started this project late last year, actually, but focused the core tracking on March. My network, being what it is (detail-oriented, slightly obsessive), is heavy on Virgos, so that wasn’t hard. I immediately pulled together a list of 55 professional contacts—all verified Virgos. These aren’t just casual connections; these are people whose careers I can actually monitor on LinkedIn or who are active in industry chats.
Then, the real work began. I opened up three massive browser windows dedicated to tracking the “Big Three” professional astrology sites. I won’t name them, but you know the ones—the ones that charge $100 for a personalized reading and somehow predict global events using goat guts and glitter.
I scoured their monthly outlooks for late February, specifically isolating the Virgo career predictions for March. And immediately, I found the first problem: they all contradicted each other. It was a complete mess.
- Site A: Predicted a “powerful financial breakthrough” and advised Virgos to “demand a raise.”
- Site B: Warned of “major internal conflict” and suggested Virgos should “lay low” and “avoid confrontation.”
- Site C: Said everything was fine but recommended “intensive introspection” and possibly “signing complicated legal contracts.”
I didn’t care about the contradictions, though. I just needed to track if any of them were right. I built a simple, rugged spreadsheet. Column A was the contact name. Column B tracked the main prediction (I usually averaged the contradiction into “High Volatility” or “Steady Gain”). Column C was the reality log—what actually happened in March.
The Grind: Monitoring, Waiting, and Verifying
I knew I couldn’t just call up 55 people and ask, “Did you quit your job because the Moon was in Libra?” That’s insane. So, I switched to passive monitoring.
I set up alerts on LinkedIn. I sank hours into reading their vaguely professional updates. I waited patiently for the typical announcements: the “Thrilled to announce my new adventure…” posts, or the sudden, slightly aggressive, “I’m focusing on new challenges and deleting this account” vibes.
March felt like a lifetime. Every time someone changed their profile picture or updated their skill set, I logged the tiny event. Did they just switch their status from “Software Engineer” to “Senior Software Engineer”? That’s a gain. Did their previous company listing suddenly disappear? That’s volatility.
I processed the raw data on April 1st, looking for hard career changes: new jobs, promotions, demotions, or layoffs that happened in the 31-day window.
The final tally? Out of 55 Virgos:
- 3 people quit without a new job lined up (Pure Chaos).
- 1 person got a small promotion (Steady Gain).
- 51 people did absolutely nothing career-wise. Same desk, same title, same boss.
So, were the stars right? Absolutely not. The predictions were about as useful as asking a coin flip which stock to buy. But if the predictions are crap, why did I dedicate all that time and energy to tracking them?
The Real Reason I Obsessively Tracked 55 Virgos
This whole ridiculous experiment didn’t start because I had extra free time. It started because I lost all faith in my own decision-making process about two years ago.
I was running a project, a huge infrastructure overhaul that everyone said needed six months. I was cocky. I looked at the timeline, looked at the budget, and in a moment of sheer, stressful arrogance, I declared we could do it in three months. I just felt it was the right time. I felt the team was ready. My gut was screaming “Go! Go! Go!”
My gut was an idiot.
We pushed the deadline. We cut corners. We implemented rushed features. The whole thing collapsed in a catastrophic failure during the final migration. We’re talking weeks of downtime, multiple clients threatening lawsuits, and me sitting in my office feeling like a total failure who just burned down two years of goodwill.
I didn’t get fired, but I was sidelined. I was put on a “special project” that basically meant reporting to someone half my age and doing data entry. My confidence was completely destroyed. I couldn’t trust my own instinct anymore. Every time I had to make a simple choice—should I take this meeting or skip it?—my brain would immediately flash back to the collapse.
So, I started looking externally for answers. First, it was reading every business book under the sun. Then, I got sucked into the self-help rabbit hole. And inevitably, I stumbled into the astrology nonsense. I didn’t believe it, but the idea that a non-me entity—the universe, fate, whatever—was calling the shots was weirdly comforting.
This March Virgo experiment wasn’t about the stars; it was about systematically disproving external certainty so I could rebuild my internal one. I had to prove, using hard data and spreadsheets, that the cosmic guidance was bunk, so I could stop looking up and start looking at the numbers in front of me again.
The good news? I proved the horoscopes are junk. The tracking spreadsheet is still running, though. It’s now my behavioral analysis tool. I don’t trust my gut, but I trust the meticulous, monotonous data log. And that, for a Virgo, is basically the same thing as spiritual enlightenment.
