Okay, look. I got stuck. We all hit those walls where the grind is just the same old crap, right? That’s exactly where I was maybe three weeks back. Everything felt flat, the projects were boring, and my Pisces brain was screaming for some drama, some sign that things were gonna shift.
So, I’m scrolling through my usual morning feed, looking for a distraction, and this headline pops up. You know the one—it promises the “Best Work Week Ever” based on some star alignment. Total bullshit, I thought, but I was desperate enough to try anything, even if it meant seriously leaning into some cosmic nonsense.
The Set-Up: Following the Script, Day-by-Day
I printed out that damn forecast. Seriously, ink on paper. I wanted to commit. The first thing I noticed was the warning: the week started slow, a few rough patches, but Wednesday was flagged—big, bold letters—as the “Luckiest Day” for major moves.
I decided, screw it, I’m going all in. I wasn’t just reading it; I was acting on it. This wasn’t observation; this was pure practice recording.
- Monday (The ‘Recharge’ Day): The forecast said to avoid major conflict and focus on organizing. Usually, Monday is when I force meetings and dump all the heavy lifting on everyone. This time, I did the opposite. I locked myself in my office, didn’t answer half the calls, and just busted through all the stupid, annoying administrative paperwork I’d been avoiding for a month. It was boring as hell, but I cleared the deck.
- Tuesday (The ‘Difficult Clients’ Day): The stars said communication would be tricky, especially with long-standing relationships. My gut told me to reschedule the call with Mr. Jenkins—the one guy who is always a pain. But the plan was to follow the script. I jumped on the call, expecting a total screaming match. It was rough, a lot of back and forth, but because I was prepped for conflict, I stayed calm. Ended up just getting through the call, which, honestly, felt like a small win compared to the usual disaster.
- Wednesday (THE Lucky Day): This was the big one. The forecast screamed: “Make your pitch! Ask for the raise! Take the risk!” I had been sitting on a major project idea—a big shake-up I was convinced the higher-ups would shoot down immediately. But it was the day. I marched right into the afternoon session with the leadership team, no detailed slides, just raw conviction, and pitched the damn thing, maybe even a little aggressively. They didn’t roll their eyes. They didn’t scream. They actually listened. That night, I got an email. Not a full yes, but a “Let’s move forward with a small test.” That was the first time in months I felt like I actually moved the needle.
- Thursday (The ‘Reflection’ Day): The forecast suggested stepping back and analyzing the data. Easy enough. I pulled all the numbers from the prior days, looked at the small win from Wednesday, and just tried to breathe. I focused on making sense of the messy paperwork I cleared on Monday. The main thing I did was resist the urge to immediately follow up on the pitch. That quiet time was surprisingly productive.
- Friday (The ‘Social Connection’ Day): They said networking was favored, finding new contacts in unusual places. I hate small talk. But I dragged my butt to the terrible happy hour across town that my buddy always pushes me to attend. I was ready to leave after ten minutes, but then I bumped into this guy I’d only ever emailed—a potential new vendor who runs a massive operation. We talked for an hour about everything but work. I didn’t land a deal, but I got a contact that felt way more valuable than five cold emails.
I ended the week exhausted, but yeah, it was probably the best in a long time. I acted when I normally wait, and I waited when I normally act. And it worked. You think that’s wild? Hold up.
You Want to Know Why I Actually Went Through This Nonsense?
It’s not because I suddenly believe in space gas and star signs. I’m an engineer by trade, for God’s sake. I went through this because I paid the price once for being blind to the signals, and I’m not doing it again. Ever.
This whole thing—this willingness to follow a ridiculous, arbitrary set of instructions—it all goes back to about five years ago, right after I finally quit that toxic startup job. I had one client left, a big one, a freelance contract that was supposed to keep the lights on for six months while I figured my life out.
The contract was solid. The work was done. Then, the payment was late. Not just late, but radio silence late. My gut was screaming at me—that nasty feeling that something was wrong. The contract said payment net-30, but the company sent me a weird email, one line, saying it would be delayed due to “an internal restructuring.”
I told myself, “They’re a big client, they always pay, just chill out.” I ignored the red flag. I pushed the feeling down. I didn’t get a lawyer, didn’t send a scary letter, didn’t even pick up the phone and demand answers. I just waited, because I wanted to be “the cool, easy-to-work-with guy.”
Big mistake. Huge. The “internal restructuring” turned into bankruptcy within two months. I lost everything—all the money, all the promised fees, the full six months of security. I ended up having to scramble, borrow cash, and take the first crappy job that would hire me, ruining my sabbatical.
The money didn’t sink me completely, but the lesson did: I was too smart to listen to a tiny signal that was right there. I kicked myself for years. If a sign—any sign, even a stupid horoscope—tells you to shift your approach, you damn well pay attention and do something different, because the price of arrogant inaction is massive.
So, yeah, I’m listening to the stars now, or my gut, or a random email, or a weird dream. I’m practicing to be ready to act on any signal. Was it the universe giving me the “Best Work Week Ever”? Nah. It was me finally forcing myself to execute a plan that wasn’t my usual stuck-in-the-mud plan. And for that, I’ll take the win.
