Starting This Wild Financial Experiment: The ‘Why’
You guys know I’m usually all about solid, quantitative data when it comes to personal finance. I’ve always preached the gospel of spreadsheets and boring index funds. But lately, my own spending habits have been kicking my butt, specifically the impulse buys. I’ve been trying to find a new framework to just stop myself from clicking “Buy Now” on some piece of tech I absolutely don’t need. It’s been driving me nuts. I searched for new behavioral tactics, I read all the productivity hacks, nothing stuck.
Then, my youngest sister—who, by the way, lives and breathes astrology—sent me this link. It was the Pisces Horoscope for July, specifically warning about financial pitfalls. I instantly laughed it off. I texted her back a GIF of a grumpy cat. But she pushed me. She said, “Just try it. Use the warnings as a forced constraint. What’s the worst that can happen? You save money?”
I considered it. What I really needed was an outside, arbitrary authority to impose rules that I couldn’t easily break. If I made the rules, I’d just change them. But if the cosmos made the rules? Maybe that felt sufficiently intimidating. So, I decided: I would spend the entire month of July strictly following the advice to avoid these “Pisces Financial Mistakes,” and I would document every single step.
The Preparation and Translation Phase
The first thing I did was pull up a couple of different astrology blogs to cross-reference the warnings. I needed consistent, actionable advice, not flowery predictions. I distilled the general warnings into three concrete, avoid-at-all-costs actions. This was the core of my practice log:
- Mistake 1: Risky Speculation/Gambling (Specifically mentioned crypto and options).
- Mistake 2: Lending Money Out of Emotional Obligation (Focusing on family and friends who “just need a little help”).
- Mistake 3: Emotional Comfort Spending (Buying things just to feel better after a tough work week).
I then translated these into system checks. I opened up my budgeting software and my spreadsheets. I created a new category label called “ZODIAC_AVOIDANCE.” For every tracked transaction, if it even smelled like one of these three mistakes, I would flag it immediately.
For Mistake 1, I logged in to my tiny side-account where I mess around with risky trading. I sold everything immediately and moved the funds into a stable, high-yield savings account. I deleted the trading app shortcut from my phone’s home screen. Out of sight, out of mind. I declared this account untouchable for 31 days.
For Mistake 2, this was more behavioral. I wrote down a simple, standard script for denying loans: “I’ve currently locked down all liquid funds for a fixed commitment, I can’t spare anything right now, sorry.” I practiced saying it in front of the mirror, just so the refusal felt natural and I wouldn’t cave in if someone actually asked. Luckily, no one asked, but the preparation was key.
Executing the Avoidance: Fighting Comfort Spending
Mistake 3 was the real killer. This is where I fall down every time. I’ll finish a huge project, feel exhausted, and decide I deserve that $500 mechanical keyboard or that new espresso machine attachment. The horoscope said this was my downfall, and it was right.
I implemented a two-step firewall against myself. First, I removed all saved payment details from Amazon, Newegg, and every online retailer I frequently use. This forced me to physically get up, find my wallet, and manually enter the 16 digits. That small friction alone stopped about five purchases in the first week.
Second, for any item over $75, I instituted the “48-Hour Stellar Review.” Before I could buy it, I had to log the intended purchase in a dedicated section of my spreadsheet and wait two full days. I documented the item, the price, and the exact emotional reason I wanted it. By the time the 48 hours passed, the urgency was gone. I reviewed the log at the end of July. I found 11 documented items—things I absolutely thought I needed—that I never purchased.
I also started taking a lot of walks whenever I felt that intense desire to buy something. I channeled that restless energy into physical movement instead of digital consumption. It sounds ridiculous, but it worked.
The Outcome and Final Review
July ended. I pulled the data. My savings rate for the month jumped up 12 percentage points compared to June. That’s massive. The trading account balance stayed perfectly still, safe and boring. I spent zero dollars on impulsive tech gadgets. I avoided all the pitfalls the horoscope warned about.
Did the stars save me? Absolutely not. But the ridiculous constraint forced me to build the friction walls I needed. The whole practice taught me that finding an arbitrary, external rule structure—even if it’s based on nonsense like astrology—can be an incredibly powerful tool for self-discipline.
I called up my sister, that astrology fanatic. I admitted she was right—not about the planets, but about the power of the constraint. I closed out the ZODIAC_AVOIDANCE category in my ledger. I’m thinking next month I’ll try out the Leo forecast. It’ll probably tell me to buy extravagant gifts, which I should probably avoid, too. But hey, it gives me a framework to work with, and that’s what this journey is all about.
