Man, last month was a total dumpster fire. My biggest client suddenly decided they didn’t need my services anymore, just boom, cut off. It wasn’t a performance thing; it was a budget thing, but when the dust settled, I was looking at a gaping hole where a huge chunk of my monthly income used to be. I felt like a complete idiot for not seeing it coming. I was staring at my expenses, feeling that cold knot in my stomach.
I was desperately scrolling through job boards one afternoon, completely defeated, when I saw that stupid headline pop up about the Virgo forecast. ‘Money success next week!’ I’m a Virgo, but I’m a practical guy. I don’t buy into that cosmic jazz, not one bit. But I was so frustrated and ready to punch a wall, I thought, Fine. If the stars think I’m getting a win, I’m going to act like it’s true and actually force the win myself. It was less about the horoscope and more about giving myself a non-negotiable deadline for a turnaround.
I Started By Brutally Assessing My Value
The first thing I slammed the door shut on was feeling sorry for myself. I grabbed a notepad and a cheap beer and mapped out everything I was actually good at. Not what I liked doing, but what people actually paid me for. This was crucial. I realized I was spending 60% of my time doing stuff that paid maybe $20 an hour, and only 10% on the high-value stuff—the stuff that brought in $100 an hour.
This led directly to the first realization, which I now call Tip 1: Stop selling the cheap stuff. I spent two days rewriting every single service description and pitch I had. I scrapped the low-cost filler work entirely. I focused on making the high-value offering irresistible. This forced me to raise my minimum project fee by 40%. Scary as hell, but necessary. I had to practice what I preached, and my previous pricing was pathetic.
I Dug Myself Out of the Networking Grave
For two years, I had been terrible about keeping in touch. I let friendships and professional connections wither because I was too busy ‘in the weeds’ working on projects that weren’t paying enough anyway. My contact list was dusty. I knew I needed help and referrals, but I hadn’t earned the right to ask for them.
So, Tip 2: Fix the networking debt immediately. I carved out 90 minutes every morning. I didn’t ask for a job. I didn’t pitch a service. I just reached out to three former colleagues or old clients every single day for a week. I typed up quick messages: “Hey, saw this thing you did, congrats,” or “Just checking in, how’s that project going?” I sent them simple notes, just checking in on their lives. No expectation of return. It was about priming the well.
The results were instant. By day five, an old client I hadn’t spoken to in six months replied and said, “Funny you messaged me, we just opened up a role that needs exactly your background.” I wasn’t even applying for jobs, but just showing up in their inbox re-activated the connection. It was a serious reminder that if people don’t know you exist, they can’t pay you.
I Shoved the Ugly Thing Out the Door
I have this bad habit of trying to make everything perfect before I launch it. I had been sitting on a small portfolio project—a quick tool I built to streamline part of my workflow—for three weeks, tweaking the colors and fixing tiny bugs nobody would ever notice.
I realized this was pure procrastination fueled by fear. If I never launch it, I can’t fail, right? Wrong. Failure is delaying the launch and losing out on potential income. Tip 3: Ship the damn thing, even if it’s ugly.
I spent maybe two hours that day just cleaning up the bare minimum and uploaded it live. I announced it on the few social channels I bother with. I swear, within 48 hours, two people messaged me asking if I could build a similar tool for them. Not because the design was perfect (it wasn’t), but because the functionality solved a problem. I had let perfectionism block my money flow for three weeks straight.
I Tracked Every Single Damn Number
This one sounds obvious, but it’s the one we skip. Before this whole crisis, I just checked my bank account balance and hoped for the best. I rarely knew where my time actually went, and I definitely didn’t know the real profit margin on specific projects.
Tip 4: You must track the numbers you hate looking at. I downloaded a simple spreadsheet and logged every single minute I spent on work, and every dollar that went in or out. I categorized it all. I didn’t stop until I knew the exact hourly rate I was really earning after factoring in admin time and costs.
The shocking reality: one project I thought was super profitable was actually costing me time and energy that exceeded the payout. I fired that client immediately. That painful tracking freed up 15 hours a week that I could dedicate to pitching the high-value services from Tip 1.
So, did the Virgo horoscope bring money success? Hell no. The stars didn’t lift a finger. But seeing that stupid clickbait headline forced me to believe success was imminent, and that belief pushed me to implement these four actions immediately. It wasn’t destiny; it was pure, uncomfortable, calculated work that pulled me out of that financial hole. If you’re waiting for the stars to align, stop. Just start.
