Man, I needed something to chew on last month. Things at the house had been a mess since the dryer busted, and frankly, my mind was absolutely fried. I was supposed to be figuring out the tax filings, but instead, I found myself clicking around on some old astrology site. I’m a Pisces, always have been, and I kept seeing this horoscopes co uk pop up in the side banners while I was supposed to be looking up deductions. Never paid it any mind until that Tuesday when I just needed to look at something that wasn’t a receipt. I clicked it, maybe for a quick laugh, maybe just to prove it was all nonsense. That’s when the idea hit me: why not stop proving it and just track it instead?
The Setup: What I Did on Sunday Night
I wasn’t going to just read it and forget it. That’s soft, and it doesn’t count as a practice log. I decided to make it a proper, week-long exercise in observation. I opened up the Pisces weekly forecast, the one for the week that was about to start. I didn’t read the whole thing deep; I just needed the concrete stuff. I printed out the page—yeah, I still use a printer for stuff like this, feels more official—and then I got a thick red pen.
I went through the entire reading and pulled out five key predictions. I avoided the real vague nonsense like ‘your intuition is strong’ or ‘a minor emotional challenge.’ Those are guaranteed hits, and they prove nothing. I wanted specifics. I needed measurable outcomes.
Here’s the list I wrote down and highlighted on the printout:
- ‘A significant financial windfall arrives mid-week, tied to an old matter.’ (I tagged this for Wednesday or Thursday.)
- ‘A relative from your distant past reaches out with unexpected, important news.’
- ‘Be cautious with a travel plan made near the end of the week, especially regarding transportation.’
- ‘You will be presented with a new, unexpected offer in your work life, possibly a side project.’
- ‘Your relationship with a long-term friend faces minor, unavoidable friction on Friday.’
I taped that sheet right next to my coffee machine. Every single morning, I looked at it before I left the house. I also carried a small spiral notepad with me all week, just to jot down anything that felt like a match.
Tracking the Hits and Misses: The Daily Grind
Monday and Tuesday: Nothing happened. I mean, zilch. I went to the shop, fixed the emails, picked up the parts for the dryer. No relatives called, no windfalls dropped from the sky. I kept checking the printout, waiting for the first checkmark. I even texted my second cousin—the one I haven’t talked to since high school—to see if he was ‘reaching out,’ he just replied ‘who is this?’ Total, clean miss on that line. The relative one was already out the window.
Wednesday (The Windfall Test): I woke up, checked the bank account balance, nothing unusual. Went to work. About 2 PM, I got an email from my former landlord. They were returning a security deposit from a place I left three years ago because they finally sold the building and squared the books. It was a small amount, maybe a couple hundred bucks. Was it ‘significant’? Hell no. But was it an ‘unexpected financial arrival’ tied to an ‘old matter’? I marked it with a solid, definitive half-check. This thing was slippery, and I had to allow for the wiggle room.
Thursday (The Work Offer): This one was the weirdest, and the least forced. I was grabbing a quick lunch with the project manager running the third-floor rollout. We were just shooting the breeze, talking about needing more hands with the documentation. He casually mentioned a six-week, specialized contract gig, totally outside my normal duties. I didn’t ask for it, it just appeared in the conversation. I slammed down a full checkmark on that line. That was a solid hit, no way around it.
Friday (The Friction and the Travel): I was supposed to drive up to my parents’ house that weekend. The forecast specifically mentioned caution with travel near the end of the week. I ignored it completely, packed the truck, and hit the road after work, rolling my eyes at my printout. Five miles outside the city, on a stretch of road I know like the back of my hand, I blew a tire. Seriously, a flat tire out of nowhere. Had to spend an hour on the side of the highway waiting for the tow truck. I ticked the ‘caution’ box hard. Later that night, I went to call my oldest friend about coming over, but he ghosted my text chain for the rest of the night. Minor friction. Another full hit.
The Tally and Why I’m Still Confused
I tallied the final score on Sunday night while eating leftover pizza and watching a game. Out of the five concrete things I pulled from the weekly reading, here is what I ended up with:
- Financial Windfall: Half a hit (a small returned deposit from the past).
- Relative Reaching Out: Total miss (cousin said ‘who is this?’).
- Caution with Travel: Full hit (blew a tire on the highway).
- Unexpected Work Offer: Full hit (the casual contract gig mention).
- Friend Friction: Full hit (got ghosted on a simple text).
That’s three and a half measurable hits out of five. That’s a passing grade, barely. But the thing that gets me is how general those first two were even when they missed. But the travel and the work thing? Those were specific, and they dropped right into my lap on the exact days. I spent a week tracking this stuff like I was working for a government agency and I came out of it thinking, what the heck did I just prove?
The practice log proved one thing to me: these sites are built to let you bend reality to their will. You look for the signs, and you find them. A small cash back? That’s a windfall if you squint hard enough. But the tire? That was just bad luck, and the report happened to catch it. I’ve already printed the forecast for next week, same site, same Pisces. I’m going for round two. Stay tuned, because I’m not dropping this until I get a solid zero or a clean five-for-five. I’m logging the process, every single step.
