Man, 2015. What a year. Everyone was talking about these “career forecasts” for Pisceans, and honestly, I kinda felt it in my bones. There was this low hum, this restless feeling, like I was just floating along, but the current was about to change big time. I was in a job, doing the thing, pushing code and all that, but it felt… flat. Like I was just punching a clock, not really building anything that mattered to me. It was good money, stable, but deep down, I was just spinning my wheels.
Then something hit. Not a big explosion, more like a slow, creeping realization. I was pouring my energy into a huge project, working late nights, really trying to make a difference. Felt like I was finally getting somewhere, finally making a mark. And then, just like that, it all got canned. Upper management, some big corporate reshuffle, and poof. All that work, all that effort, just vanished. It was a gut punch, for real. That’s when the “forecast” started to feel less like a whisper and more like a shout. It was time to really look at things.
I started small. Just poking around online, you know? Updating my old resume, which was probably from like, 2012, all dusty and forgotten. Felt kinda pathetic, honestly. But I pushed through it. Started sending out feelers, just a few here and there. Got a couple of polite rejections, mostly just silence. That was tough. Made me question everything. Was I even good enough? Was this whole “career shift” thing just a pipe dream?
But that feeling, that restless Piscean energy, kept gnawing at me. I couldn’t shake it. So I decided, screw it, I’m going all in. I committed myself. I opened up those job boards every single night, after putting in my eight hours at the old gig. I read through descriptions, many of which I didn’t even fully understand, but I just kept going. I started tailoring those cover letters, trying to make them sound like me, not just some generic corporate speak. It took forever. I swear I spent more time writing about myself than I did actually doing work sometimes.
I went to those dreaded networking events. You know the ones. Awkward small talk, forced smiles, trying to make eye contact with strangers while holding a lukewarm drink. Ugh. But I went. I handed out my makeshift business cards, chatted up anyone who’d listen, tried to make connections. Most of it felt like a waste of time, to be honest. But I pushed myself out there, just kept showing up.
The rejections kept coming, like little paper cuts. Each one stung a little. Some days I just wanted to throw my laptop across the room and give up. I started thinking wild thoughts. Maybe I should just move to the mountains and become a full-time sourdough baker. Or open a tiny bookstore. Anything but this endless cycle of applying and waiting and getting told “no.” I really hit a wall for a bit there, felt utterly lost in the woods.
The Breakthrough Moment
Then, out of the blue, my phone rang. It was an old colleague, someone I hadn’t talked to in ages. He was starting something new, a small tech startup, and they needed someone who wasn’t afraid to just roll up their sleeves and build stuff. Like, from scratch. Not just maintain old systems, but actually bring new ideas to life. It sounded chaotic, a bit risky, and completely different from my comfort zone. My gut, that weird Piscean intuition, just perked right up.
I went in for the interview. It wasn’t formal at all. It was more like a long chat over coffee, talking about ideas, about possibilities. They weren’t interested in my fancy corporate titles; they wanted to know what I could actually do. They tossed me a challenge: “Can you build a small proof-of-concept for this idea in a week?” No pressure, right? I grabbed it. I dove in headfirst.
That week was a blur. I taught myself new tools, watched countless tutorials, slammed coffee like it was going out of style. Pulled a couple of all-nighters, felt utterly exhausted but also strangely alive. It wasn’t just about getting the thing done; it was about the process, about learning, about seeing something take shape under my own hands. When I presented it, it wasn’t perfect, but it worked. And they loved it.
They offered me the job. It was less money than my old corporate gig, at least to start. All my friends thought I was nuts, leaving a stable job for some fly-by-night startup. But I didn’t care. That feeling, that strange Piscean pull, it was screaming at me. This was it. I took the leap. Walking out of my old office for the last time felt like shedding a heavy skin. Like I could finally breathe.
Looking back at 2015 now, it feels less like a “forecast” I just waited around for, and more like a signpost I followed. It was a year of pushing myself, facing a whole lot of uncertainty, and making a decision that felt totally irrational to everyone else but absolutely right to me. It wasn’t smooth sailing, not at all. There were plenty of doubts, plenty of moments where I wanted to just give up. But man, did it pay off. I started truly building things, seeing my efforts come to life, learning new stuff every single day. I felt alive, engaged, more creatively fulfilled than I had in years. So yeah, 2015. It really was a huge turning point. Sometimes those “forecasts” just remind you to trust your gut and get to work making your own future, you know?
