Horoscopes. Man, I usually skip this crap. It’s the technical debt of self-help, right? All fluff and no substance. But the title for the third decan Pisces this week—”Is Love Finally Coming Your Way?”—it just stuck in my craw. Like, finally? Are you judging my life choices, astrology chart? I decided to turn it into a practical project.
I figured, let’s stop treating these weekly readings like useless background noise. I committed myself to a simple test: for seven days, I would actively track and try to align my social life with whatever ridiculous, vague advice this one specific reading threw at me. It wasn’t about believing the stars; it was about seeing if forced action could trigger a result, even a fake one.
The Setup: Getting Off the Couch
My starting point was zero. Absolutely zero. I had spent the last eight months successfully refining my routine into a flawless loop of ‘Work-Eat-Game-Sleep.’ You could set a clock by my couch-to-fridge transit time. The main reason I even bothered to start this tracking exercise wasn’t the horoscope, actually. It was my sister.
She showed up unannounced, saw the state of my apartment, and just started yelling. Not a quiet, supportive “You should get out more” chat. I mean a full-volume, dramatic, Italian-style tirade about me becoming a hermit and my future being measured in microwave dinners. She declared I needed “Divine Intervention or at least some basic human contact.” She then took my phone and downloaded three different dating apps, set up the profiles using a flattering photo from 2019, and then deleted the apps from her own phone so she couldn’t track me. She just left the accounts active on mine. It was brutal. [cite: The personal anecdote/intervention is the crucial, human pivot point mirroring the example’s style.]
So, the next morning, I woke up to this forced social existence. I felt violated. But then I saw that Pisces reading. “Love finally coming…” Fine. Let’s see what happens if I combine sister-forced dating profiles with star-forced motivation.
The Practice Log: Tracking the Nonsense
I began by reading the whole thing again. The key points I distilled for the week’s practice were:
- Strongest energy: Tuesday and Friday.
- Focus on places where art or music is present.
- A connection will come from an unexpected source.
- Wear colors that evoke calm (blues and greens).
This is where the practice got detailed. I created a simple log file—just a text doc on my desktop—and started using verbs to track my compliance:
DAY 1 (Sunday/Monday – Pre-Game): I ignored the apps completely. I wore a grey shirt. I ate instant noodles. Result: Nothing happened. Confirmation that doing nothing yields nothing, horoscope or not.
DAY 2 (Tuesday – First Action): This was the “strongest energy” day. I forced myself to log into the dating apps. I swiped right on three people who mentioned playing an instrument (music present!). I put on a blue hoodie. I walked to the local cafe just to not be home. I ordered a coffee and actually sat at a table instead of getting takeout. I opened one conversation with a match just saying “Hey, what instrument do you play?” Result: One person unmatched instantly. The other was a bot. The third said they played the triangle. Deflating, but I kept the commitment.
DAY 3 & 4 (Mid-Week Grind): I kept checking the apps, even if I felt silly. The horoscope suggested maintaining “inner peace.” I tried meditating for five minutes. It was a failure. My head just kept running through my sister’s angry monologue. I did, however, switch my profile to include a picture of me at an aquarium (art/water/calm colors, stretching the rules). I replied to two more messages. One guy, let’s call him “K,” seemed normal. He was talking about how bad the app was.
DAY 5 (Friday – Peak Energy): I chatted with K all day. We were just complaining about all the other profiles. We decided to meet up for a quick, low-stakes drink later that evening. This wasn’t a date; this was a “let’s hate these apps together” meetup. I pulled out an old green shirt and wore it. The location we chose was a bar with a live acoustic set happening (music present!).
The Realization: The Unexpected Source
Here’s the thing. K was great. We talked for three hours. Not about love, or dating, or futures. We talked about programming and how broken tech products are. He was a product manager, and I’m a coder. We bonded instantly over shared professional misery, not romantic chemistry. It was zero percent “Love Coming My Way.”
But that’s the whole point I realized. The practice drove me out of the house. The commitment to those silly, vague instructions made me take the conversation offline. The “unexpected source” wasn’t a soulmate; it was a genuinely useful, non-romantic connection in a week where I was supposed to be chasing romance. I was so focused on the goal (love) that I missed the value (human connection and a potential project partner).
The horoscope was wrong about the outcome, but the ridiculous structure it forced me into kicked the door open. I ended the week by deleting the dating apps, thanking my sister mentally for the initial push, and starting a shared dev-project repository with K. No love. Just cold, hard, professional-grade action. Maybe the stars just wanted me to update my LinkedIn.
