Man, I saw that headline pop up on my feed, the one about John Hayes and the Pisces money stuff, and I just had to click it. Not because I believe in any of that horoscope junk—I absolutely do not—but because I was so bored with my own budgeting routine, or lack thereof, I figured I’d make a little game out of it.
I decided to run a dumb experiment for the whole week. I was going to follow that generic, vague, astrological advice to see if it would actually cause me to make the “Costly Mistake” it warned about, or if it would somehow, magically, stumble into a win. Spoiler alert: I ended up face-planting, hard. And let me tell you, I learned exactly why people who look for shortcuts always end up getting burned.
Setting Up the Stupid Test
I pulled up the weekly advice, and you know how it is. It’s all high-level nonsense. For the record, the main points for the week were:
- Be cautious with sudden large expenses related to the home.
- A communication investment will pay off unexpectedly by Thursday.
- Avoid making snap decisions on joint funds.
I read that stuff and scoffed. “Communication investment”? What does that even mean? Buying a new phone? Paying my internet bill early? I just paid my internet bill, so I ignored that one.
The first point, “large home expenses,” stuck in my mind, though. My washing machine has been rattling like a bag of bolts for about six months. I’ve just been crossing my fingers, hoping it holds out. But seeing that astrology line, for some reason, made me feel weirdly protected against it. Like the universe already called it out, so it was safe.
This is where the real stupidity began.
The Flawed Logic and The Real Action
Instead of saving the five hundred bucks I should have been putting aside for the inevitable washer replacement, I saw the third bullet point, the one about “snap decisions on joint funds.” I don’t really have “joint funds,” but it made me think about a few hundred dollars I had sitting in a dusty crypto wallet from like 2017. It was worthless then, worthless now, but I suddenly got this jolt of confidence.
I thought, “Okay, the astrologer warns about snap decisions on joint funds. Since this is my old junk money, it’s fair game.” It was classic looking for a loophole in generic advice.
So I pulled that small chunk of change and threw it into the hottest, riskiest meme-stock thing I could find on a trading app. I mean, all the charts pointed to a massive dump coming, but I was riding the irrational wave of John Hayes’s vague non-warning. I told myself I was making a “communication investment” by finally activating that old dead wallet, or something equally moronic.
I hit the ‘Buy’ button, leaned back, and waited for the stars to align.
The Universe Delivers a Slap
Less than forty-eight hours later, the whole thing blew up. Not metaphorically. Literally. The washing machine died. I mean, smoke and water everywhere. It wasn’t just a repair job; it was a floor replacement job too, because I’d ignored the rattling for so long. The “cautious with sudden large expenses related to the home” warning hit me like a train, but only because I had spent the only savings I had on a stupid impulse trade.
I checked my little meme stock trade to see if I’d won big enough to cover the flood damage. Of course not. It had completely cratered, down about 80%. I didn’t lose my house, but I lost all my emergency liquid cash, I had a wrecked laundry room, and I was going to be hauling baskets to the laundromat for a month.
The costly mistake wasn’t the washing machine dying; the costly mistake was believing that some guy named John Hayes, or anyone else, could give me a magical cheat code that would get me out of basic financial responsibility. I didn’t follow the real advice—which is boring stuff like maintaining appliances and avoiding high-risk, low-info trades.
The Takeaway: Shutting Up and Doing the Math
I spent the next two weeks just looking at my bank account, not a horoscope, and cleaning up the mold. I had been hoping for some external force to fix my money problems, or at least entertain me while I ignored them. This whole pathetic little experiment made me finally get honest with myself.
I deleted the trading app, ripped up my notes on the Pisces weekly forecast, and started a spreadsheet. It’s ugly and full of errors, but it’s my error, and I can fix that. Trying to outsmart vague, generic advice based on star alignment is just another way of trying to avoid the hard work. I got slapped, I paid the price, and now I just track every single penny that moves, even if it feels tedious. No John Hayes needed for that.
