Honestly, the whole thing started because I was stuck. Like, seriously stuck in a career rut. I’d been pitching the same kind of stuff to potential clients, seeing the same zero results, and doing the same daily grind. It was turning into one of those situations where you just know the definition of insanity, right? Doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome. So I thought, what the heck? Let’s try something completely ridiculous.
I wasn’t a believer in astrology, not even close. But I’m a Virgo, and I kept seeing these generic weekly forecasts pop up everywhere. Most of it was noise, but sometimes, they dropped these weirdly specific career tips. I decided to treat the next four weeks of the “Virgo Next Week” forecast not as prophecy, but as an external project management framework. I was gonna log everything and see if this ancient star-gazing stuff could actually fix my terrible professional habits.
The Great Pitch Experiment Setup
The first step was to ditch the vague stuff. I had to find a reliable source, one that specifically broke down the movements of Mercury (which I learned governs communication, because apparently, I needed to know that now). I didn’t care about love life or money; I was zeroing in on work and career alignment only.
My goal for this period was landing one new major client—a big one that had been ghosting me for months. My usual strategy was brute force: work more hours, pitch harder, send more emails.
The new strategy, guided by the stars, was about timing and method.
I began by establishing a clear logging system. Every single career-related action I took—a call, a revised document, an internal meeting—had to be logged alongside the relevant weekly tip and the eventual outcome. It looked like this:
- Date/Time:
- Virgo Tip of the Week:
- My Action (How I applied the tip):
- Immediate Result:
The Detailed Process: Applying the ‘Vibe’
The first week, the forecast was all about details and infrastructure. It said something like, “Mercury squares Saturn, meaning foundational work pays off later, not flashy launches.” My initial instinct was to send the Big Proposal to the Big Client right away. I held back. That forecast forced me to re-route my energy completely.
I pulled the proposal back from the “Ready to Send” folder. Instead of hitting ‘send,’ I spent two full days doing nothing but fixing the formatting, checking every single citation, and rewriting the entire appendix to make it super crisp. It felt like stalling, honestly, but I was committed to the experiment. I was using the stars’ advice to give myself permission to slow down and check the boring stuff.
The second week was about communication clarity. “Expect miscommunications in partnerships; double-check all agreements.” My co-founder and I were prepping for an intense meeting about resource allocation—a meeting that usually ends in a loud, messy argument. Knowing the “star vibe,” I pre-wrote my points and sent them over twenty-four hours in advance, explicitly saying, “Hey, let’s keep this clean and logical.” It killed our usual explosion. We handled the business, quick and easy. It wasn’t magic; it was enforced preparation.
The third week was the weirdest. It was heavy on networking and reaching out to old contacts—things I always put off. The forecast said, “Planetary alignment favors unexpected connection from the past.” I dug through my old LinkedIn messages and randomly pinged three old colleagues I hadn’t spoken to in three years. One of them, totally out of the blue, mentioned that they were now working for the Big Client and knew exactly who I needed to talk to. The initial pitch-bombing I wanted to do wasn’t needed; the gentle, unexpected networking did the work instead.
The Realization and the Outcome
Why did I stick with this even though it felt totally goofy?
I know this because my previous strategy was the technical equivalent of trying to drive a nail with a screwdriver. I was working long hours, but I was always hitting the wrong spot at the wrong time. I was just throwing effort at the wall. This forced system—this “Virgo Next Week” calendar—made me inject intention and restraint into the chaotic work process.
It’s like when I was forced to quit my old job because they messed up my contract after a big project. I was furious, I wanted to jump into the nearest available work, any work. But a friend (who is into this stuff) told me to “wait for the beneficial Mercury aspect.” I was broke and angry, but I held off on accepting the first terrible offer that came along.
Because I waited, and used that waiting time to structure my portfolio like the details forecast told me to, the Big Client, who my old colleague connected me with, came back. Not with a generic “no,” but with an offer. Not only did they come back, but they specifically cited the clarity and detail of that proposal appendix I nearly threw out in week one!
The outcome? The contract was signed. It wasn’t the stars doing the work; it was the stars giving me a structure to stop my own worst instincts. I learned that sometimes, the best career tip isn’t about working harder; it’s about having an unconventional system that tells your brain to work smarter and when to rest. I still check the forecast. Not for magic, but because it acts as a bizarrely effective project manager telling me where to point my Virgo focus for the week. It’s an easy hack to break chaos.
