I never thought I’d be the guy actually digging through old horoscope predictions from three years ago, but here we are. I’m a Pisces, and let me tell you, 2022 was supposed to be the year. Everyone kept chirping about Jupiter going into my sign and how it was finally time for growth, for a big career shift. I bought into it, a little. Kept telling myself to wait for the ‘perfect transit’ before making any big moves. Ended up just sitting around and letting opportunities just float right past me.
The whole reason I started this ridiculous deep-dive now, in late 2025, is simple: I just got bounced from my gig. Not laid off, not quit, they just… let me go. Said my ‘vibe didn’t align with the new leadership strategy.’ Classic corporate nonsense. I walked out of that glass building feeling completely hollowed out. I got home, slammed my laptop open, and started doom-scrolling. That’s when I stumbled on an old folder I’d named ‘2022 Career Stargazing.’ I had saved probably a dozen articles talking about Pisces and that whole Jupiter thing.
My Investigation: Tracking the Jupiter Hype
I decided to treat this like a real project, like auditing a bad sales quarter. I pulled up my old calendar. I opened those saved horoscopes—the ones that sounded all mystical and promising. The key promise was always ‘the first half of 2022.’ They said it was the time to finally ask for that raise, or jump ship entirely. I zeroed in on those dates.
I mapped out three specific periods the astrologers were raving about:

- January to May 2022: Supposedly the ‘Golden Period.’ Massive expansion, recognition, and luck.
- The Mid-Summer Slump (June/July 2022): A time they warned about—confusion, holding back, don’t sign any contracts.
- October to December 2022: Jupiter retrogrades back into Pisces. A ‘second chance’ to solidify gains.
The next step was cross-referencing. I didn’t just check the stars, I checked my bank statements, my old resignation draft emails, and the company Slack archives. I wanted proof, one way or the other.
What I found was pretty sobering.
The “Golden Period” (Jan-May 2022): The Reality Check
The horoscopes were screaming: ‘The universe is handing you the keys! Take the leap!’ What did I actually do? I spent five months drafting a new resume, revising it seventeen times, and then sending it to exactly two places—both of which rejected me within 48 hours. I had a chance to apply for an internal promotion, something I was actually qualified for, but I held back. I was waiting for things to feel ‘easy.’ I talked myself out of every bold move. I actually ended up signing on for more project management duties without any extra pay, simply because I was scared of shaking the boat. No expansion. Just more unpaid labor.
The Mid-Summer Slump (June/July 2022): The Paradox
The stars warned me to be cautious, to rest, and not to make rash decisions. What did I do? I took a week off, drank a lot of beer, and decided, in a fit of boredom, to cold-email the CEO of a rival company just to vent some frustration. That CEO surprisingly replied. We had a casual phone call that went really well. It didn’t turn into a job then, but it created a connection. The one actual ‘move’ I made, the thing that felt like a risk, I did during the time the cosmos supposedly told me to hide under the covers. Go figure.
The “Second Chance” (Oct-Dec 2022): The Missed Boat
The horoscopes hyped this as a time to lock things down, to receive rewards. My reward? I contracted a nasty flu that lasted three weeks. I missed the company holiday party. My manager changed my performance goals at the last minute, forcing me to pull all-nighters to meet the new, unrealistic targets. I felt completely drained. The ‘move’ I should have made? I should have just updated my LinkedIn profile and started applying seriously. I didn’t. I stayed put, praying for external recognition that never came.
The Final Tally and The Real Move
I spent almost two entire afternoons sifting through this stuff, and the final conclusion hit me hard. The career horoscope for Pisces 2022 wasn’t ‘finally good.’ It was exactly what every other year is: a bunch of vague, positive affirmation that I used as an excuse to procrastinate. I was waiting for the perfect cosmic moment to ‘make a move.’
The truth I realized is that the window was open all along. The good periods weren’t guaranteed. The bad periods weren’t inescapable. The one time I took an actual risk (cold-emailing the CEO), it was on a day I was explicitly told by the stars to chill out. The rest of the time, I wasted the supposed ‘golden’ energy by just sitting on my hands, waiting for the universe to dump success into my lap.
So, here’s my practice record summary: If you’re wondering when to make a move, stop checking your 2022 prediction. It’s a waste of time. I threw those old PDFs right into the trash folder. I started a new spreadsheet. I used the last bit of my severance to sign up for a certification course I’ve put off for years. I contacted that CEO from 2022 again. The time to make a move isn’t when Jupiter shifts; it’s the second you stop reading predictions and start hitting ‘send’ on those applications. That’s the real transit that matters.
