Honestly, I never really bought into that astrology stuff. Never. But I’m a Virgo, right? So naturally, I overthink everything. Especially when things are stuck. And man, were things stuck. I was running three different small side projects that were supposed to be income streams, but they were barely covering their own damn costs. I was just spinning my wheels.
One Tuesday morning, I was waiting for a huge, complicated code compile to finish—it was taking forever, hours of my life wasted daily—and I clicked on one of those random ‘astrostyle weekly’ things. I usually skip them. But the headline, that’s what got me. Something about a “Hidden Blockage” and a clear instruction: “Cut the Anchor.” It said, and I’m paraphrasing the ridiculous language here, that my biggest career opportunity was stuck behind the oldest, most resource-draining commitment I was too sentimental to ditch.
I read that mess and immediately, one thing popped into my mind: the legacy client. Let’s call them Project Stone. They were my first big freelance gig, they paid a lousy five-figure retainer every month, but dealing with their outdated systems was a nightmare. It took 70% of my week and the contract was 10 years old. An anchor, indeed. I had always been afraid to fire them because, hey, guaranteed money, right?
The Execution: Taking the Axe to Project Stone
That day, I decided. What the hell. The horoscope had pushed me past the analysis paralysis. It wasn’t the stars doing the work, it was that weird, blunt instruction that made me realize I already knew the answer. The rest of the week was a blur of action.
Step 1: The Scaffolding Dump.
- I physically went into the shared drive and archived every single historical document related to Project Stone. I didn’t delete anything yet, but I removed it from my immediate view and day-to-day access. This was purely psychological; I was creating distance.
- I drafted the termination email. I spent four hours on it, trying to sound professional but firm. It was messy. I kept rewriting the part where I said I could no longer support their antique framework. I was sweating bullets.
Step 2: The Push.
I almost chickened out. Friday morning, I had the email ready to send. I stared at the “Send” button for a solid twenty minutes. My wife came in and asked what I was doing, and I just said, “I’m killing a monster.” I hit send. The immediate wave of panic was intense. I lost 70% of my guaranteed monthly revenue just like that. But then, a weird sense of space opened up.
Step 3: The Empty Space Rebuild.
Project Stone was gone. The next Monday felt bizarrely quiet. I had all this time. What did I do? I pivoted. That compile that took hours? That was for a new product I had been building on the side, a piece of proprietary software that could automate some of my current clients’ marketing. I had only been spending an hour a day on it, tops. Now, I had a full workday.
I scrapped about 40% of the older code I had written for the new software because it was needlessly complex—a very Virgo habit, perfecting the wrong details. I rewrote the core pipeline in a simpler language. I was moving fast, no time to overthink the dependencies or the little details. Just build and fix later.
The Realization: The Chance Wasn’t What I Expected
I kept this up for three weeks. Just heads-down coding and building the new product. I wasn’t thinking about the money I’d lost, only the time I’d gained. The speed of development was insane compared to before. The product was ready for beta, fully operational, in under a month.
Then the chance came. Not a new client calling out of the blue, but an email response from an old contact who had seen my tiny, stagnant LinkedIn post about this product months ago. He’d been waiting, I found out. He needed exactly what I was building, but he needed a custom version to handle massive scale. He was ready to fund the entire thing and bring me on as a partner for his upcoming venture, not just a contractor. The deal was life-changing, something I couldn’t have even dreamed of with Project Stone sucking the life out of me.
The hilarious thing? He said he initially dismissed me because my workload looked too heavy, but when he saw my status update saying I was “freeing up resources for new development,” he reached out the next day. The “chance” wasn’t a lottery win. It was simply the door that opened because I moved the biggest piece of junk blocking the way. That silly astro reading was just the kick in the pants I needed to do the dirty work. I’m still not a full believer, but I’ll definitely check those headlines when I feel stuck now. Sometimes, the weirdest sources give you the permission you need to finally quit being your own biggest hurdle.
