Man, 2020. What a year. Seriously, everyone was just trying to keep their head above water, right? I am a Virgo, and I’m usually the least woo-woo person you’ll ever meet. I run on spreadsheets and caffeine, not cosmic alignments. But back then, I was feeling stuck. Really, really stuck in my role. I needed a change, and more importantly, I needed more cash, but the entire company felt like it was running on fumes just trying to survive the pandemic aftermath.
I don’t even remember where I saw it. It might have been a random scroll on a news aggregator, maybe a weird ad. But suddenly, there it was: a headline about the November 2020 career predictions for Virgos, specifically mentioning something about a potential promotion or a major career boost. I remember the exact feeling: a total eye-roll mixed with a tiny spark of irrational hope. I thought, “Okay, let’s treat this stupid horoscope like a project deadline I just invented.”
The Pre-Game: What The “Stars” Supposedly Told Me
I actually went and hunted down a few different interpretations. I dove into the rabbit hole for like an hour, which is unlike me. What I pieced together was basically a bunch of fluffy advice that boiled down to this:

- Be Seen: Don’t work in the shadows; make your achievements visible.
- Be Bold: Ask for what you want; don’t wait for it to be handed to you.
- Be Ready: Have your case prepped and your ducks in a row.
I mean, come on, that’s just basic career advice, not some mystical revelation. But since the stars had given me a deadline—November 2020—I decided to execute a plan based on those three points, even if they were dressed up in glittery space talk.
Executing the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy “Practice”
The entire month of October 2020 was spent laying the groundwork. I started by digging through all my old project logs. I wasn’t just listing duties; I was hunting for impact.
I calculated the time I saved the team on the automated reporting system. I logged the revenue increase from the small side project I managed. I compiled a document that wasn’t a resume, wasn’t a review request, but a detailed, objective case for why my current title and salary were now a hilarious understatement of my actual contribution. I titled it something completely dry, like “FY2020-Q4 Role & Responsibility Alignment.” Gotta keep it corporate so they take it seriously.
When November 1st rolled around, I wasted zero time. I didn’t wait for my one-on-one. I sent an email to my boss with that document attached. I didn’t even ask for a promotion in the body of the email; I just wrote something like, “Thought you’d be interested in seeing the impact of X, Y, and Z projects as we plan for the next year. Let’s discuss alignment next week.” I made it about them planning, not me asking, which is a key trick I learned years ago.
I then spent the next three weeks making noise. I proactively volunteered to lead the next complicated rollout. I spoke up in cross-department meetings instead of just typing in the chat box. I basically became the squeaky wheel that was also delivering serious production. I needed them to see my name and immediately think, “Oh yeah, the person who did that big thing.”
The Unexpected Twist and The Final Result
Now, here’s the part where the horoscope kind of failed, but my plan absolutely paid off. November ended. I had a few good chats with the boss, who admitted my document was “compelling” and that my recent work was “outstanding.” I got the verbal handshake that they agreed with the move up. But then came the classic corporate line:
“The budget is frozen until the start of the new fiscal year, Q1 2021. Hold tight.”
I was furious. I thought, “Well, so much for the stars and all my extra effort.” I felt like I had played the game perfectly, hit the self-imposed deadline, and still got stopped by a spreadsheet. I mentally chalked it up as a failed experiment and went back to just doing my job, but with a slight chip on my shoulder.
I stopped thinking about the horoscope. I stopped paying attention. The calendar flipped to December, and then January 2021, which was the start of our new fiscal year.
Then, in the last week of January 2021—two months after the “prediction” window closed—I got the official paperwork. Not only did I get the promotion I pushed for, but the raise was bigger than I originally asked for, because the momentum I built in November carried through those slow holiday months. My boss used my “impact alignment” document as the definitive proof to push the paperwork through on day one of the new budget cycle.
My Takeaway Record
Did I get a promotion in November 2020? No. So, was the horoscope right? Technically, no. But here’s the thing, and this is the entire record of the practice:
The prediction acted as a trigger.
It gave me a deadline and a reason to stop procrastinating and ask for what I wanted. If I hadn’t seen that weird prediction, I probably would have sat on my achievements, waited for the annual review cycle in March or April, and likely gotten a smaller, automatic bump. Instead, I took the initiative in November, forced the conversation, and established my value months early.
So, yeah, the universe didn’t magically hand me the title on a silver platter in exactly November. But it gave me the kick in the pants I needed to go out and earn it, and that’s a way better realization than any star chart could give you.
If you’re stuck, don’t wait for a sign from the cosmos. Just pick a date, pretend a star sign told you to be bold, and get your case ready. It works.
