I was having one of those weeks. You know, the kind where you are so deep in the data analysis trenches that your brain just stops working. Everything felt heavy, and I was secretly hoping for a shortcut. That’s when I saw the ad. It was ridiculous, popping up on some random site I was reading: “Virgo, stop tracking, your answers are here! California Psychics know your truth!”
Setting Up The Test: Fantasy Data
I’m a Virgo. I track everything. Every dollar, every hour spent on a project, every weird habit. My life is a massive spreadsheet. But for one week, I decided to outsource my future documentation just to see what kind of garbage came back. I committed to ignoring my gut and following the predictions, if they were specific enough.
The first thing I did was identify the sources. I picked three places:
- The expensive California psychic site (the one that advertised heavily). I paid for a “weekly overview.”
- A popular mainstream free weekly horoscope for Virgos.
- A completely random, obscure astrology blog known for being super dramatic.
I collected all the predicted data points. I opened a new sheet in my documentation system, which I quickly labeled “The Dream State Data Log.” I organized the predictions into categories: finance, relationships (ugh), and career momentum. The key was to get specific verbs. Here is what they collectively promised for the upcoming week:
- Money: An unexpected financial windfall will arrive midweek.
- Career: A significant professional breakthrough will occur, leading to great recognition.
- Relationships: An old contact will re-emerge bringing deep emotional connection.
I printed this sheet out, tacked it onto my wall, and resolved to compare it to reality exactly seven days later.
The Execution: Reality Data
Then I started the week. I carried my standard notebook everywhere. This was “The Hard Facts Data Log.” I wrote down everything that actually happened, focusing only on verifiable outcomes.
Monday: The psychic had predicted “smooth sailing in communications.” What actually happened? My internet went down for four hours right before a crucial client meeting. I wasted two hours scrambling to find a coffee shop with decent Wi-Fi. No smooth sailing. Just panic and poorly caffeinated rage. I logged the downtime and the associated stress level (8/10).
Wednesday: This was supposed to be the “unexpected financial windfall” day. I checked my bank account constantly. Nothing. I checked my emails for surprise payment notifications. Nope. What did happen? I received a parking ticket I completely forgot about. That’s a financial outflow, not a windfall. I documented the $65 fine and scanned the ticket into the reality log.
Friday: This day was pegged for the “professional breakthrough.” I spent the entire day debugging a messy migration script. The breakthrough I achieved was finally figuring out why the database kept throwing a syntax error. It was mundane, technical, and completely unrelated to “great recognition.” Nobody applauded. My boss just sent a thumbs-up emoji. I captured the timestamps of the error resolution and the corresponding emoji.
Weekend: The relationship prediction promised an old flame re-emerging. My phone did ring. It was a telemarketer asking if I wanted to refinance my house. That’s an old debt connection, not an emotional one. I blocked the number and noted the false positive in my log. I spent Saturday cleaning the garage and discovered a huge leak in the water heater. I spent Sunday shopping for a new appliance, which cost me way more than any psychic reading. I recorded the model number and the damage assessment.
The Tally: Why We Track
Sunday night, I sat down to compare the two logs. I pulled the fantasy predictions sheet off the wall and placed it next to the reality document, which was now seven pages of highly verifiable stress and technical details.
The total verifiable hits for the psychic and horoscope predictions? Zero. Not one single prediction was even close. The vague ones were so stretchable that if they said “you will breathe air,” it would count as a hit, but even those were contradicted by actual verifiable negative events (like the parking ticket). My week was messy, stressful, and expensive. It was 100% predictable based on my existing workload, and 0% predictable based on the position of Jupiter.
Why do I go through this effort? Why do I need to document every mundane failure and minor success? Because I learned the hard way what happens when you let someone else write the narrative for you. Back when I was starting out, I trusted a “mentor” who promised me a big equity stake in a startup project. He talked a great game, full of vague, beautiful promises about “destiny” and “future success.”
I poured 18 months of my life into that venture. I refused to track my hours properly because I believed his “vision.” Then one day, the whole operation dissolved. He vanished. I found out he’d been skimming funds for months. I lost all that time and effort, and I had zero documentation to recover anything. I realized right then: if you don’t write the facts down yourself, somebody else will make up the fiction for you. And that fiction almost always costs you money.
So, what does my weekly Virgo horoscope say? It says absolutely nothing that is verifiable or actionable. The real answer lives in my reality log, not in some overpriced California psychic’s script.
