Man, 2017. That was a rough year. I was stuck deep in the corporate trench, clocking in 50 hours a week doing work that felt like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. I was completely fried, felt zero respect, and knew I had to jump ship, but I was paralyzed. You know how it is: the fear of the unknown keeps your butt firmly planted in that miserable chair.
I distinctly remember the third week of May. I was supposed to be finalizing some quarterly report, staring blankly at the screen, and I just tossed the whole thing aside. I figured, what’s the harm in checking something completely ridiculous? I’m usually not one for this stuff—I’m a hardcore evidence guy—but I was desperate for a sign, any sign, that wasn’t my bank account balance telling me to stay put.
The Moment I Clicked That Stupid Horoscope
So, I typed in ‘virgo career horoscope may 2017’. I skimmed past the typical vague nonsense about ‘financial stability’ and ‘harmonious relationships.’ But one particular reading, the one I eventually saved the screenshot of (and which is the subject of this practice review), really hammered home something specific. It kept harping on this idea of ‘major expansion through global outreach’ and ‘the necessity of abandoning current foundational structures for higher learning.’
My first reaction? Total rubbish. But then the phrase ‘biggest opportunities found in teaching what you know and documenting the process’ hit me. See, I’d been secretly planning to put together some courses on my specific niche in process optimization, but I always convinced myself nobody cared enough to pay for it.
The horoscope didn’t tell me to quit, but it sure as hell gave me the permission structure I needed to execute the escape plan I’d been sitting on for six months. I drafted my resignation letter that same evening. I didn’t tell anyone about the horoscope part, of course. I just told my wife I needed a change, and she rightfully thought I’d lost my mind.
Executing the Escape and the Immediate Crash
I handed in my notice, packed up my cube, and walked out two weeks later. It felt amazing for about three days. Then the reality of trying to build an online consulting and course business from scratch hit me like a truck. The horoscope said “biggest opportunities,” but it failed to mention “massive initial failure.”
I set up a freelance profile, built a rudimentary landing page, and started trying to sell my optimization framework. Crickets. Absolute radio silence. I was spending half my day on LinkedIn, cold emailing contacts, and nobody was biting. That promised ‘global outreach’ was looking more like ‘sitting alone in my kitchen wearing the same sweatpants three days in a row.’
My savings started disappearing way faster than I’d modeled. I was relying heavily on that first six months of income to stabilize, and it just wasn’t happening. I had to face the fact that the actual ‘product’—my niche corporate knowledge—wasn’t packaged right for the online world.
The Unexpected Pivot (Where the Practice Really Happened)
Instead of panicking and running back to a corporate job, I remembered the second part of the reading: ‘documenting the process.’ I figured, if I can’t sell the solution, I’ll sell the struggle. I opened a new document and just started logging every single mistake I made trying to transition from employee to consultant. I logged the tools I bought that didn’t work, the bad client calls, the awful pitch emails. I just wrote down the raw, ugly truth.
I started releasing these logs weekly on a simple blog platform. It wasn’t formal teaching; it was a rough, blow-by-blow account of an expert failing spectacularly at starting a business.
And that’s when things finally clicked. People who were facing the same transition—they found my content relatable. It wasn’t polished marketing jargon. It was genuine. Suddenly, I had traction. They weren’t hiring me for my complex optimization models; they were hiring me for my honest breakdown of the practical steps. They were saying, “Look, you screwed up so I don’t have to; now tell me what worked.”
The practice started with a ridiculously vague horoscope, which led to a desperate, poorly-planned career leap. But the actual success, years later, came because I forced myself to track and share the real-world results of that leap, even the bad ones. The horoscope got me out of the door; the documentation kept the lights on.
Looking back, that May 2017 reading was just noise. But the noise made me finally take action. It compelled me to ditch the structure I hated and push hard into documenting my unique journey, which is exactly how I built the successful coaching and content platform I run today. It’s funny how a piece of mystical fluff can kickstart the most practical, real-world change you’ll ever make.
- Initial Action: Researched and screenshotted the Virgo May 2017 forecast (looking for a sign).
- Catalytic Action: Immediately resigned based on the push for “global outreach” and “higher learning.”
- Immediate Reality: Experienced 6 months of near-zero income and major frustration trying to sell polished solutions.
- The Pivot: Shifted focus from selling solutions to aggressively documenting the daily practical struggles and failures of the transition.
- Long-Term Outcome: Gained credibility and audience by being painfully honest, leading directly to a stable, profitable documentation/coaching business model.
So yeah, May 2017. Total chaos, based on a whim. But it worked. Sometimes you need a bit of ridiculous external pressure to force the good practice.
