Honestly, I never thought I’d be sitting here, laying out my whole stupid week just because some glossy magazine claimed to know what my stars were up to. But hey, a promise is a promise, and I said I’d share the practice. So, here we go. The whole drill: “Elle Weekly Pisces Today.”
The Mess I Started With
I’ve been a Pisces for fifty-something years, and I’ve learned two things: 1) We’re dreamers, and 2) Reality usually comes in like a bulldozer and makes a mess of the dream. This week? Oh man, it was a Level 10 bulldozer. It all started when my oldest kid called me up, totally freaking out. He’s trying to buy his first house—a tiny, beat-up place—and the bank suddenly decided to yank the loan approval after months of paperwork. Just snapped it away like a wet towel.
I jumped on a three-hour train to go fight this mess with him. I wrestled with the loan officer—a slick-haired guy who kept giving me smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. I poured five days of my life into finding a new broker, shuffling documents, and banging my head against walls of corporate red tape. Every phone call I made just led to another dead end. Every night, I collapsed onto a crappy motel bed, totally fried and stressed about this massive chunk of money and effort that was just going to disappear.
The Ridiculous Practice: The Search
On Thursday, when I was completely out of gas, my wife texts me. She’s like, “You sound miserable. Just check your horoscope. Maybe the stars warned you about this loan crap.” I rolled my eyes so hard, I nearly strained something. But I was bored and waiting for some notary to call me back, so I figured what the hell. I pulled up my tablet and typed in the exact phrase: “elle weekly pisces today.”
Finding the right page was a whole performance in itself. I clicked on three different links that were just clickbait garbage. I scrolled past ads for fancy perfumes and designer shoes. Finally, I landed on the official Elle site. I had to scroll down past Aries, Taurus, Gemini, all the way down to the last sign, Pisces. It felt like I was wading through a huge pile of meaningless fluff just to get to my own little pile of meaningless fluff. But I got there.
The Reading vs. The Reality
This is the record. This is what the oracle had to say. I actually read the darn thing twice, just to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. The whole weekly forecast was pure, unadulterated sunshine and rainbows.
The reading claimed a few specific things:
- Financial Outlook: “This is a week of unexpected ease. A surprising gain smooths over recent tensions. You’ve earned a break from money worries.”
- Career/Effort: “Your sensitivity allows you to flow through difficult situations with grace. Trust your intuition; difficult tasks will simply dissolve.”
- Overall Vibe: “Enjoy the feeling of things clicking into place. The universe is aligning your path.”
I stopped reading. I slammed the tablet shut. I stood up and paced that tiny motel room. “Unexpected ease?” “Flow through difficult situations?” “Difficult tasks will simply dissolve?” What in the ever-loving hell were they talking about?
I looked at the stack of denial letters and counter-offers I’d been carrying around. I remembered the slimy loan officer’s face. I felt the tension headache I’d developed from shouting into a phone for hours. Nothing was dissolving. Nothing was flowing. My life was currently a financial pressure cooker and a masterclass in bureaucratic hell. The prediction was not just wrong; it was the exact opposite of my lived experience that week.
The Realization (The Punchline)
So, what was the real “practice” here? It wasn’t about finding the future; it was about testing the absolute nonsense of these weekly summaries. Just like I learned years ago with my old company—the one that dumped me in a heartbeat, promised loyalty, then took my paycheck (yeah, the whole story I told before)—you can’t rely on a system that is fundamentally based on vague generalization and blind optimism. That company claimed they used Go for efficiency, but it was really just a massive mess. This horoscope claims cosmic clarity, but it’s really just designed to make you feel good for a minute.
I went back to the broker. I fought another five hours. I sweated and schemed. I ignored the idea of “unexpected ease.” Did the universe align my path? No, I drug the universe, kicking and screaming, down the only path that worked. We didn’t get the old loan back, but by midnight, I hammered out a deal with a new, smaller lender. It was the hardest thing I’ve done all year.
The lesson I pulled from this Elle weekly report is the same lesson I pull from everything: If you want things to happen, you can’t wait for the stars to tell you to “flow.” You have to get up, take the call, and push until the damn thing works. The stars don’t fix anything. You fix it.
That was my practice. It was a waste of time, but a good reminder. Don’t miss this: You’re in charge, not the fish.
