So last night I was digging through my old tarot cards, right? Found this 9 of Hearts thing I’d totally forgotten about. Grabbed my worn Rider-Waite deck and coffee-stained notebook – let’s do this properly.
The Shuffling Mess
First I cleared my tiny apartment desk – shoved empty takeout boxes aside. Spread the cards facedown. Forgot I should’ve cleansed the space first, whatever. Did three quick shuffles like I always do while thinking hard about the heart symbol. My brain defaulted to romance meanings immediately. Pulled the card and… huh? The Rider-Waite version is actually Cups, not Hearts! Total facepalm moment. Mental note: Suits have different names across decks.
The Head-Scratching Phase
Stared at Pamela Colman Smith’s artwork: Dude sitting up in bed clutching his head like a migraine hit. Nine fancy cups arched overhead. First thought: “Oh great, anxiety card.” But that felt lazy. Checked my ancient notes from 2022 – I’d scribbled “emotional hangover?” beside it. Still vague.
Decided to pull companion cards for context:
- The Tower crashed out – disaster vibes
- Page of Cups flopped next – creative kid energy
- Four of Swords landed upside down – ignoring rest, classic me
Made zero sense together. Scooped everything back up. Maybe this needs wine.
Reality Check Time
After wasting 20 minutes overthinking, I did what actually works:
- Literal look: Dude overwhelmed by feelings (cups), haunted bed situation
- Number crunch: Nine’s nearly full cycle but incomplete. Like finishing chocolate box with one left – satisfaction with lingering craving
- Personal punch: Reminded me of last Tuesday’s 3AM anxiety spiral about unfinished projects
The Actual Lightbulbs
Three usable interpretations finally clicked:
First: It’s that gnawing midnight dread – emotional indigestion from stuffing feelings down all day. Your soul’s 3AM text message: “We need to talk.”
Second: Creative blue balls. That painting half-done in your closet? Novel draft abandoned? The cups show available tools, but paralysis wins.
Third (the sneaky one): Hangover from emotional binging. Like doomscrolling ex’s Instagram then feeling rotten. Cups overfloweth…all over your pajamas.
Wrap-Up Thoughts
Took scribbling in my journal till 1AM, but landed here: The card’s not doom prophecy. It’s your gut yelling “Stop ignoring the emotional backache!” Simple as that. Realized I’d complicated what’s basically a “check engine” light for feelings. Still prefer cats over tarot though.
