Let me tell you something straight up. Did I check the “Best career horoscope 2018 Pisces review” because I actually believed some planets were going to fix my life? Absolutely not. I checked it because I was drowning, and I was desperate for literally any signal that wasn’t more corporate garbage.
I was done. Before 2018 hit, my whole career setup was a disaster, a technical debt nightmare, much like those huge companies running five different languages just to handle a basic login. I was running three different roles—part project manager, part sales closer, part actual analyst—and I was doing none of them well. My whole professional life was a big, fat, messy hodgepodge.
I remember feeling this crushing weight. I was clocking in 60-hour weeks, getting paid maybe for 40, and anytime I brought up a raise or better structure, my boss would just smile and say, “You’re so valuable, don’t worry about titles.” Yeah, right. I felt like a cheap battery they were running on maximum charge.
The Moment I Clung to the Stars
So, late in 2017, I stumbled upon this Pisces 2018 career reading. It wasn’t one of those fluffy “good things are coming” pieces. This one straight-up predicted a massive and painful “cleansing” or “detachment” from old professional structures. It specifically highlighted a need to move toward “creative ownership” and “self-generated wealth.” I swear I printed it out, not as a guide, but as a warning.
I taped the key points right above my monitor. I stared at them every time I signed off at 11 PM. The article was just words, but I used it to prepare my mind for the inevitable crash that I already knew was coming. I was subconsciously giving myself permission to bail out.
And then the disaster hit, right on schedule, around March. It wasn’t a sudden firing, which would have been clean. It was worse. I had spent eight months leading the development of a huge new product line. We were days from launch. Then, the whole executive team had a fight on a Friday, and by Monday, they had axed the entire division. Eight months of my life, gone. Instantly worthless. I felt completely hollowed out.
That feeling of profound waste? That’s what finally forced the action. It mirrored that story I heard about the guy who got locked out during the pandemic—the betrayal when your hard work is rewarded with nothing, sometimes less than nothing. I realized my employer saw me, not as valuable, but completely disposable.
The Big Pivot and The Real Lesson
I spent about two weeks drinking bad coffee and just staring at the wall. I didn’t want to apply for another job that was just going to burn me out. I pulled down that old horoscope printout. “Creative ownership.” I shoved the corporate job market aside. My real skill wasn’t in managing other people’s projects; it was in explaining complex stuff to beginners, something I’d always done for fun on the side.
I decided to transition into full-time content creation and consulting—a scary, high-risk jump. I literally built a business out of thin air. The process was brutal:
- I launched my first online course and watched three people sign up.
- I pitched twenty major clients and heard “no” nineteen times.
- I worked harder than I ever had, but this time, the effort directly fed my own pocket, not some shareholder’s bonus.
I kept going. I pushed through the fear. Within six months, I was making maybe 80% of my old salary, but I was doing it in 30 hours a week, from home, wearing sweatpants. The gain wasn’t just money; it was control. That horoscope didn’t predict my future. It just gave me the framework to interpret the reality I was already living and the guts to make the necessary, terrifying leap.
What lesson did I learn? That structure, whether it’s a tech stack or a career path, needs to be clean, and if it’s a hodgepodge, it will eventually collapse. The horoscope just served as the confirmation bias I needed to finally pull the plug on a relationship that was killing me.
Funny thing is, about a year after I quit, my old company started calling. Then emailing. Then their HR was trying to add me on LinkedIn. They had struggled to replace me. They were offering 20% more salary, better titles. I just pulled a permanent block on them all. I wasn’t interested. I had built my own sky, and I wasn’t going back to their little leaky basement.
The lesson isn’t in believing the stars; it’s in finally trusting your own gut when the signs—astrological or otherwise—tell you it’s time to burn the old blueprints and build something new.
