When My Career Hit the Wall, I Started Consulting the Zodiac
I’m gonna be straight with you guys. You look at my portfolio now, everything seems polished, stable, successful. But rewind about eighteen months, and I was drowning. Not figuratively, but truly stuck in that swamp most of us hit in our thirties where you realize the old ladder is broken and you have no idea how to climb the new one. My main contract, the one that kept the lights on, unexpectedly dissolved. Gone. Just like that.
I tried everything professional. I polished the resume, I network-drank until my liver hurt, I chased vague leads that went nowhere. Nothing stuck. This wasn’t just a bad quarter; this was existential dread mixed with an empty bank account. So, what do you do when logic fails? You turn to the absurd. My wife, bless her heart, is really into that cosmic stuff, always talking about retrogrades and houses and all that jazz. I’m a Pisces, and one morning, I saw her phone open to that specific site: pisces monthly horoscope co uk. I scoffed, obviously. Then I thought: “What the hell do I have to lose?”
The whole point of this exercise wasn’t to actually believe in stars. It was to inject some utterly random, external instruction into my paralysis. If some cosmic energy told me to “focus on creative communications,” maybe I’d actually do it, unlike when my own common sense told me. It was a commitment to absurdity as a form of momentum.
The Commitment: Opening the Prediction Spreadsheet
I didn’t just read the predictions; I treated them like gospel, at least for tracking purposes. I opened up a new spreadsheet—let’s call it the Astro-Tracker. Every month, I went to that site, read the full career section, and meticulously broke down their advice. This wasn’t casual reading; I was logging data.
I created columns:
- Date Range: Which weeks the prediction covered.
- Prediction Theme: E.g., “Networking is key,” “Be bold in negotiations,” or “Focus on internal restructuring.”
- Action Taken: What specific steps I executed to match the advice.
- Result/Observation: Did anything happen? Was it good, bad, or utterly irrelevant?
The first month, the prediction was hazy: “A new opportunity will arise through an unexpected meeting near water.” Seriously? I lived three states away from the nearest coast. But I committed. I dragged myself to the local reservoir park for three consecutive days, pretending to “network.” I talked to a dog walker about her leash preferences and shared a bench with an old guy feeding ducks. Did I get a career lead? Absolutely not. I just got a mild sunburn.
Chasing Vague Celestial Mandates
The deeper I got into the tracking, the more ridiculous the whole thing felt, but the sheer momentum of documenting kept me going. I started noticing patterns in the predictions themselves—they were so general they could fit anyone. Yet, I forced the connection.
One month insisted on “revisiting old documents and finding hidden value in previously dismissed ideas.” Okay, fine. I spent a full week digging up every archived pitch deck and proposal from the last five years. I reviewed hundreds of slides. It was painful. Did I find a ‘hidden value’? No. But I did realize how much my presentation style sucked back then. I spent the next two days rewriting my template purely out of embarrassment. This wasn’t the stars telling me what to do; it was the process of deep, forced review that was the actual catalyst.
Another strong prediction came up: “Financial gains are linked to risky communication just before the new moon. Be uncompromising.” This sounded like a mandate to strong-arm clients. So, I took it to heart. I had one potential client dragging their feet on a contract. I sent a firm, aggressive email demanding immediate commitment or I was walking. I fully expected to lose them. Guess what? They signed the next day. I logged it as a “Win for Pisces,” but the real truth was, they were just testing my boundaries, and the horoscope just gave me the excuse to finally stop being a pushover.
The Final Revelation: The Spreadsheet Was the Star
After six months of treating this astrology site like my personal corporate consulting firm, I stepped back and looked at the Astro-Tracker spreadsheet. It was a beautiful disaster of color-coded absurdity. But what did it actually reveal?
It didn’t show that the predictions were accurate. It showed that my own actions, dictated by the need to fulfill a stupid, external prompt, were driving the results. The site never told me to update my pitch decks or stand firm in negotiations. It gave vague, celestial nonsense. But because I committed myself to defining the vague term (“revisit old documents”) and executing a concrete action, I broke my cycle of inertia.
The best predictions from that site? They weren’t in the copy. They were in the schedule I forced myself to maintain. The real success wasn’t because of cosmic alignment, it was because for six months, I woke up every day determined to prove or disprove a theory. That sheer act of daily tracking, logging my actions, and reflecting on the outcome is what rebuilt my momentum. I didn’t need the stars; I needed a compelling, albeit ridiculous, reason to hold myself accountable.
So, if you’re stuck, go ahead. Use the horoscope. But don’t follow the stars. Follow the spreadsheet. It’s the commitment to documentation that actually moves the needle, not the moon cycle.
