Man, 2015. What a mess. I was sitting on my couch, totally broke, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what the heck to do with my life. I had just walked out of a gig that drove me nuts—a classic corporate deal where they were breathing down your neck every two seconds. I was fried. Utterly, completely fried. So, naturally, like any desperate person who’s exhausted all their common sense, I pulled out my laptop and typed the dumbest thing I could think of: “Best Career for Pisces Woman.”
The Great Experiment Kicks Off: What Google Said
I swear, the internet gives you the same five answers every time. Every site was screaming the same thing about the ‘sensitive’ and ‘caring’ Pisces: you gotta be a healer, a therapist, an artist, or some kind of dreamy creative. I read through all the lists, and I ignored the high-paying stuff like finance, because they said it would crush my soul. My soul felt pretty crushed already, but whatever. I was committed to the script. I figured, “Fine, I’m a Pisces, let’s see if this cosmic crap actually pays the bills.”
I set up my plan to just jump into three different types of jobs that supposedly fit this vibe. I wasn’t just thinking about it; I was applying to anything that sounded even remotely dreamy or helpful. This wasn’t some long-term thing; I gave myself a strict three-month clock for each job to see if it A) made me happy and B) actually earned me enough to eat.
The Trials: Firing and Forgetting
I started with the one that sounded the most “me”: the creative gig.
Trial One: The Etsy Queen Dream
- I plunged into making custom jewelry and art prints.
- I wiped out my tiny savings getting tools and materials.
- I slaved over designs that felt personal and deep—all the stuff the Pisces profiles talk about.
- I set up the shop, I took the photos, I posted the listings.
The reality? It was a disaster. I spent about 80 hours a week designing, packaging, and dealing with customers who wanted $5 jewelry for $0.50. My “passion” quickly became another chore. I chased down PayPal payments for days. After three months, my profit totaled $117. I shut down the shop. My soul might have been ‘un-crushed,’ but my bank account was screaming.
Trial Two: The Caring Crusader
Okay, fine. Maybe I needed to use that famous Pisces empathy to help people. I landed a part-time job as an assistant at an after-school program for kids who needed tutoring and a lot of emotional support.
- I showed up early and left late.
- I listened to sob stories, solved playground wars, and wiped a lot of sticky surfaces.
- I used every bit of my emotional energy and felt great about the mission.
But let me tell you, the money? A joke. They paid minimum wage and offered zero benefits. I spent more on gas driving there than the job was worth some weeks. The emotional drain, while fulfilling in a weird way, left me too exhausted to do anything else. I walked away after the trial period. Turns out, helping people feels good, but it doesn’t pay for the rent. That gig was a total paycheck sink, not a “paid off” situation.
The Big Twist: See Which Jobs Paid Off!
By the time I moved onto my third experiment, I was done. I was sick of the zodiac advice. I dumped the “creative” and “caring” criteria and just looked for the simplest, most stable thing I could do that required zero emotion and zero passion. I found a job posting for a Virtual Assistant/Data Entry role for a big nameless tech company. The description was brutally boring: input spreadsheets, check boxes, send automated emails. No creativity required. No feelings allowed. Perfect.
I accepted the job and just plugged away. I logged in, typed for eight hours, logged out. That’s it. It felt dull, repetitive, and completely soul-crushing on paper. It demanded no part of my ‘sensitive’ Pisces nature. I went against everything those career websites recommended. And guess what?
This job paid off big time. They offered a solid, above-average hourly rate right off the bat. It was remote, so I saved money and time on commuting. The work was so simple that after the first few weeks, I got incredibly fast and started finishing my tasks in six hours instead of eight, but I still got paid for the full eight. I started using those extra two hours to actually relax, read a book, or, ironically, work on my own creative writing—stuff I was too tired to do when I was actually working the “creative” jobs.
The big takeaway, what I realized at the end of 2015, was that the job title doesn’t matter. The whole “Pisces must be a painter” thing? Garbage. The thing that truly paid off and made my life better wasn’t the type of work, but the flexibility and the stable cash flow. Finding a boring job that pays well freed up my time and energy, allowing me to be a ‘Pisces’ outside of work. The career that paid off was the one that demanded the least of my emotional self, leaving plenty for me to use. Don’t chase the dream job; chase the job that gives you the time and money to chase the dream after 5 PM.
