People think I’m joking when I bring up an old career horoscope from June 2017, especially one for Pisces. They usually look at you sideways, like you’ve lost it. But those four key takeaways—I didn’t just read them; I etched them into my workflow after my whole world almost went sideways.
The Setup: June 2017 and the Grind
Back then, I was deep in the startup scene. Everything was about the hustle. Late nights, ramen, the whole deal. I checked that Pisces June 2017 reading mostly as a joke, but something in it stuck because the career section wasn’t all rainbows. It was heavy, talking about reckoning and structural shifts. It broke down into four clear warnings, four things to implement right then and there. I wrote them down on a sticky note. That was the start.
- Takeaway 1: Define Boundaries. (Stop working for free, period.)
- Takeaway 2: Trust the Shake. (If an alliance feels shaky, it is. Cut the cord or secure it.)
- Takeaway 3: Seek Solid Ground. (Find a mentor with stable, old-school success, not the latest flash-in-the-pan.)
- Takeaway 4: Ditch the Jackpot Mentality. (Stop chasing the one big score; focus on consistent cash flow.)
I read them, nodded, and then promptly ignored them because I was deep in a contract with this one client, a major revenue source. Their whole operation felt off, shaky—Takeaway 2 was screaming at me—but the potential payout was huge. I was chasing that jackpot (Takeaway 4).
The Event That Forced the Change
I was working 18-hour days, neglecting every boundary (Takeaway 1). My wife had just given birth to our first kid. We needed the money. Two months later, that big client, the one that felt like a house of cards, didn’t just default. They vanished. Gone. Took about six months of my life and the promise of a massive equity payout with them. That put us in a deep financial hole, deeper than I’d ever been. We were looking at losing the house, dipping into savings we shouldn’t have touched for diapers and rent. I called my old partner—the one I’d started the company with—and he just ghosted me. Poof. Like I never existed. The whole thing was brutal.
I remembered the reading. I remembered the sticky note. I realized I hadn’t just gotten unlucky; I’d been warned. The universe, or Saturn, or whatever was at work back in June 2017, had laid out the roadmap for survival, and I’d thrown it in the trash.
I started sending out resumes. I was desperate. The only calls I was getting were for these high-risk, high-reward roles that looked exactly like the one that just sunk me. Every time I looked at those offers, that little note about Ditching the Jackpot Mentality popped into my head. I felt sick just thinking about another startup promise.
Putting the Key Takeaways to Work
I finally got real. I pulled that sticky note back out. I stopped applying for the flashy jobs and went strictly for the kind of role I used to think was boring—a steady, mid-level corporate gig at an older, established firm.
I Defined Boundaries right from the start. In the interview, I said I would not answer emails after 6 PM. The hiring manager blinked, but she respected it. That was the first time I’d ever done that.
I found an old manager from ten years ago, someone who never struck it rich but always had a solid business. I reached out. He took me for coffee, gave me the straight goods, and didn’t try to sell me on any new scheme. That was my Solid Ground Mentor. He told me, “You lost yourself chasing a logo. Go get stability.”
I took the corporate job, a massive pay cut compared to the potential of the failed startup, but the paycheck was clockwork. Consistent Cash Flow. My gut still twitched sometimes, wanting to go back to the adrenaline of the hustle, but I fought it. I had applied the lesson about Trusting the Shake to the job market itself—if it felt too good to be true, it was. I stuck with the stable ground.
Funny thing is, that stability forced me to actually get good at managing a team instead of just being a fire fighter. I got promoted within 18 months, another one a year later. Now, my reliable corporate salary is more than the maximum potential that flaky client ever promised. I see those old partners of mine struggling still, jumping from one scheme to the next, while I’m home for dinner every night. They call me boring, I call it winning.
The biggest confirmation? That old startup job that sunk me. They tried to hire me back about a year after I left, sending these frantic emails, offering me a massive bonus. I looked at the email, laughed, and hit archive. They’re still out there, floating, wondering why they can’t build a stable business. I know why. They missed the memo from June 2017. I didn’t.
