The Great 2018 Virgo Prediction Audit: An Obsessive Log
Man, I gotta tell you, this whole thing started because of my neighbor, Steve. That guy is always on my case about planning and being prepared. Last month, we were just chilling, talking about how messed up 2020 was, and he goes, “You never see anything coming, do you? Just wandering through life.” That pissed me off. I snapped back that life is random, you can’t predict squat.
He pulled the classic “But people try!” line, brought up his own detailed financial planning, and then, for some reason, threw astrology at me—specifically, the 2018 predictions he apparently saved from some newsletter. He said, “I bet you didn’t even remember what was supposed to happen to you back then.”
That challenge dug deep. I’m a Virgo, and 2018 was a huge, chaotic year for me. New job, moved house, the whole nine yards. I decided right then and there I was going to prove him wrong, or at least document exactly how useless (or useful) those star readings actually were. I needed proof. So, the mission started: track down every single weekly Virgo prediction for 2018.
Phase 1: Finding the Forecasts – The Digital Archaeology
The first step was a nightmare. I initially thought, “Easy, I’ll just Google it.” Nope. Try finding consistent, weekly archived horoscope data from a single source five or six years back. It’s like searching for a specific bottle cap in a junkyard. Most sites scrubbed the old content to push the current year. They only keep the general yearly summary, not the 52 individual weekly blasts.
- I spent the entire first evening digging through archive sites, which were mostly broken links or subscription walls.
- I finally stumbled upon a lesser-known, kind of dodgy-looking astrology site that specialized in archiving old forecasts. It was a mess, but the raw text was there, but it was just a giant wall of text.
- I had to manually cross-reference dates. They didn’t label them “Week 1, 2018.” It was “January 1 – January 7.” I had to constantly check my 2018 calendar to make sure I wasn’t mixing up weeks.
This phase sucked up almost three days. I was just copying text, scrolling through forums, and cursing the internet gods. I finally pulled the trigger on downloading all the raw, individual weekly text snippets into a massive Word document. I didn’t want to use fancy spreadsheets yet; I just needed the words locked down and available first.
Phase 2: Structuring the Data – The Comparison Matrix
Once I had all 52 readings—that’s a lot of talk about Mercury retrogrades and financial flow—I needed a solid way to compare them to my actual life events. This required setting up a proper log. I booted up Excel, something I usually avoid like the plague, and established three crucial columns for every single week of 2018:
- Column A: The Prediction. I copied and pasted the key takeaway phrase—like “Unexpected news will disrupt home life” or “A financial decision requires patience.” I kept it short, just the core message.
- Column B: The Actual Event. This was the messy part. I went deep diving into my old phone calendars, my personal banking records (just looking at dates of major purchases or events!), and most importantly, my old physical journal I kept that year. I logged the defining thing that happened that week. For example, Week 15: “I got the job offer.” Week 30: “The pipe burst in the kitchen.”
- Column C: The Match Rating. This was the judgment call. I simply assigned a score: 0 (No Match, reality was opposite), 1 (Vague Match, could apply to anything in life), or 2 (Direct Hit, genuinely specific and accurate).
The whole process of cross-referencing my memories with the predictions felt like therapy mixed with detective work. There were so many weeks where the prediction was so generic it could mean anything. “Watch your health.” Dude, I watch my health every week. That’s a 1. I documented every single one, forcing myself to be honest about the correlation.
Phase 3: What I Uncovered – The Final Tally
After nearly a week of obsessive logging, I finally got to the final numbers. This is what Steve demanded, and this is what I delivered to myself. I tallied up the scores and this is what 2018 looked like:
- Direct Hits (Score 2): Only 4 weeks. These were genuinely spooky—like the week it specifically mentioned a conflict with a close female relative resulting from travel, and that’s exactly when my sister and I had a falling out over airport pickup times.
- Vague Matches (Score 1): 35 weeks. These predictions fell into the trap of being universally applicable: “Financial opportunities are available,” “Focus on communication,” “A shift in relationships is coming.” Totally useless for actual planning.
- No Match (Score 0): 13 weeks. Nothing the stars predicted happened; the reality was completely different. One week predicted a major romantic breakthrough, and I spent the whole week painting my fence alone.
So, what did this whole insane project teach me? It proved that I wasted a lot of time, but it also proved my initial hunch. Steve’s idea that you can plan your life meticulously based on cosmic advice? Total garbage. The stars might give a general vibe, but if you’re trying to use a weekly horoscope to plan your mortgage signing or a job interview, you’re just going to drive yourself nuts. I closed the spreadsheet and immediately deleted the text archive. The experiment is done, the data is logged, and next time Steve talks about destiny, I’ll just show him the 4/52 result. Practical documentation achieved.
