Man, 2021 started like a train wreck. Seriously. I remember January; I was just trying to keep my head above water. I had this big contract I thought I nailed, right? I spent three solid weeks putting that proposal together, didn’t sleep much, only to get an email saying they went with the cheaper bid. Boom. Done. Just like that, all that effort evaporated.
That loss just triggered a whole domino effect. I had just paid for new tires, and then my old truck started acting up again, cost me a grand just to get it running, and then my fridge died the very next week. I started thinking, “This isn’t just coincidence, this is universal sabotage.” I needed a fix, something immediate. My savings account was starting to look dangerously thin, and I was feeling that creeping panic, that feeling of everything falling apart simultaneously. It really reminded me of that time a few years back when I got totally screwed over by an old boss—suddenly finding myself without income and just fighting to keep the lights on. That experience made me realize I absolutely had to stop the bleeding this time, no matter what it took.
That’s when I pulled up every single 2021 prediction I could find for Virgos. I wasn’t usually into this mystical stuff, maybe just skimming the paper for the funnies, but I was desperate enough to try anything to “avoid bad luck.” I scrolled through dozens of amateur astrology sites and blogs, just grabbing common threads. I decided to treat this whole mess like a life-or-death practical experiment. If they said doing ‘X’ would stabilize my finances, I was doing ‘X’.
The Virgo Avoidance Protocols I Enforced
I decided to treat these tips like a strict set of protocols. I printed the key warnings out and taped them to my office door. The whole point was mitigation. If bad luck was coming for me, I was going to be ready. This practice wasn’t about manifesting success; it was purely defensive.
- Tip 1: The Extreme Declutter Rule. Virgos apparently thrive on hyper-order. Every site screamed that messy environments drain energy and attract chaos. I looked around my garage and felt instant guilt. So, I spent a brutal weekend bagging up years of junk. I mean, I dragged out boxes from the attic I hadn’t touched since the early 2000s—old tax returns, ancient kids’ toys, broken electronics. I reorganized my entire tool shed until you could practically eat off the floor. I tracked this rigorously. I marked down “Clutter Level: Zero” on my homemade tracker sheet. This wasn’t just tidying; I was waging war against physical chaos.
- Tip 2: The Color Ban. Several charts warned against certain shades for Q1 2021—red and deep purple were supposedly energy sinkholes for Virgos. So, I packed away every red shirt and tie I owned. I changed the wallpaper on my phone and computer to a boring, soothing green. My wife seriously thought I had lost it, telling me I looked ridiculous in nothing but beige and blue, but I stuck to the rule religiously for eighty days. I even made sure to use a blue pen instead of a red one for my weekly planning.
- Tip 3: The Gemstone Shield. This was the weirdest one, and the one that felt the most foolish while I was doing it. Apparently, carrying a piece of moss agate would stabilize my work life and protect me from sudden shocks. I drove thirty miles out to a weird little crystal shop—yes, I did that, in my repaired truck—and paid forty bucks for a tiny polished rock. That stone lived in the watch pocket of my jeans for three months straight. Every time I felt a contract negotiation getting tense, I’d discreetly rub the damn thing.
For the first four weeks of enforcing these “avoid bad luck” rules, absolutely nothing noticeable changed. I still got frustrating calls from clients who were slow to pay. I still had those big bills looming. I kept checking the online charts every Sunday night, thinking maybe I missed a crucial planetary alignment or something that negated all my efforts.
But here’s the actual, tangible realization, and it wasn’t about the stars or the moss agate. When I cleaned out that shed and sorted through those junk boxes, I didn’t avoid bad luck—I found my old business paperwork. I unearthed the details of a small investment account I had completely forgotten about from five years ago, one that I thought I had closed. It wasn’t huge money, but thanks to the market, it was enough to cover that ridiculous truck repair and the dying fridge without touching my already struggling main savings. It was a lifeline.
The ‘luck’ wasn’t coming from the cosmos or the absence of red clothing. The luck was generated by the organization itself. The horoscope didn’t magically stop the bad things from happening. The bad things happened anyway. But because I forced myself into massive action—cleaning, organizing, doing stuff I’d put off forever, spurred on by the irrational fear of ‘bad luck’—I put myself in a position to discover and use resources I had forgotten about.
I look back at those 2021 predictions now, and I laugh. They told me to prioritize organization and physical health to weather the storms. I only did the organization part because a random website told me the sky was falling and I needed to prepare for chaos. But damn, that organization was the actual key. It wasn’t avoiding bad luck; it was uncovering old resources and creating mental space so that when the next inevitable round of unexpected crap hit the fan, I wasn’t wading through literal garbage while trying to fix the truck. Next time, I’m skipping the crystal shop, but I’m definitely keeping the clean shed and organized files.
