The Moment I Decided to Stop Guessing and Start Following the Stars
I was trapped. Absolutely stuck in a job that was sucking the life out of me, pulling double duty for middle-tier pay. For two years, I had been trying to maneuver for a promotion, constantly writing emails, scheduling pointless one-on-ones, and submitting performance reviews that disappeared into the void. Standard corporate BS wasn’t working. I was ready to quit, but I also desperately needed a strategy that wasn’t just my own frustrated rambling.
Now, let me be clear, I am a Virgo. Which means I am meticulous, yes, but I usually snicker at horoscopes. I’m a ‘show me the data’ guy. But my logical data collection had failed me. So, late last August, sitting there totally fried after a terrible quarterly review, I decided to go completely off the rails. I opened Google and typed in the most ridiculous thing I could think of: “Virgo career horoscope 2023 big move.”
That’s when I found the article. It wasn’t some vague piece of fluff. This Virgo monthly reading was definitive. It analyzed the planetary transits and straight-up called out October 18th as the optimal day for any major career negotiation or big decision. It claimed that on that day, the alignment would give Virgos the necessary clarity and negotiating power to make an undeniable move. My initial reaction was to laugh, but then I saw the structure. It was so detailed, it felt like a tactical plan.

Executing the “Stellar” Project Plan
I decided to treat the prediction not as prophecy, but as an externally imposed deadline. If October 18th was my date, I needed to build the most solid case possible for the preceding six weeks. I completely ignored the usual methods. I didn’t tell my manager. I didn’t ask HR. I just started tracking and documenting like a maniac.
- I created a massive spreadsheet. This wasn’t just listing projects; I measured the financial impact of every single one of my successes.
- I calculated how much revenue my efficiency suggestions had saved the company (a staggering number, honestly).
- I isolated three key senior responsibilities I had taken over when the previous director left, without any corresponding title or pay bump.
- I prepared two different proposals: one for a new role internally, and one for a counter-offer I might need if they refused.
Everyone around me was jumping ship throughout September. The market was hot, and my colleagues were snapping up 20% raises elsewhere. My direct reports kept telling me to quit and apply for the jobs they were seeing. But that October 18th date was burned into my mind. I held back. I waited. I endured the anxiety, focusing purely on perfecting my pitch document.
The day finally arrived. I requested a meeting not with my immediate boss, who was too busy being useless, but with the VP I often interacted with—a classic power move hinted at in the deeper analysis of the horoscope. I walked into that room, not begging, but presenting an airtight business case. I slid the 40-page dossier across the table, which I had printed and bound professionally. I didn’t waffle. I presented the numbers, pointed out the responsibilities, and demanded the new title and a 40% salary adjustment.
The Undeniable Outcome
The VP stared at the document for a good five minutes. He flipped through the pages, seeing the detail I had meticulously compiled over those six weeks. He didn’t argue about the impact. How could he? The data was right there, bulletproof.
He agreed to the title change immediately. The salary took a week to process through corporate channels, but I got the full 40%. It was the biggest jump I had ever seen internally at that company. The funny thing is, the promotion itself wasn’t the magic; the stars hadn’t opened the door. The horoscope, by setting an arbitrary but non-negotiable deadline, had forced my hand. It prevented me from leaving prematurely, and required me to spend the crucial preparation time building a case so strong that management simply couldn’t deny it.
I realized something profound that day. It wasn’t about believing in cosmic energy; it was about committing to a plan derived from an outside source when your internal strategies have failed. Sometimes you need a ridiculous, external mandate to force you to do the heavy lifting that logic alone couldn’t compel you to finish. Now, every major decision? I still look at the stars—not for the prediction, but for the perfect deadline to execute my fully realized, data-driven plan.
I continue to use that job title and salary as a base today. Best damn arbitrary deadline I ever followed.
