My buddy, let me tell you, I never thought I’d be the guy breaking down horoscope dating strategy like I was running a damn hedge fund, but here we are. This all kicked off because of one person: my friend Sarah. Absolute textbook Pisces. Sweetest person you’ll ever meet, but when it came to dating? A complete, unmitigated disaster.
I mean, I watched this train wreck for years. Every swipe, every date, ended in the same watery, emotional mess. She’d get hooked on some guy who only texted back at 2 AM, or she’d dump a perfectly good partner because “the vibes were off.” I had to listen to the analysis of these failed romances every damn weekend. It drove me nuts. I finally snapped.
The Stupidity Starts: My Horrible, No-Good Spreadsheet
I told her, “Look, Sarah, you’re treating this like a lottery. We’re going to treat this like a process. If there’s a ‘best month’ for anything, we can damn well find it.”
This was never about believing the stars; it was about finding a pattern. I decided to become her personal, unpaid, and unqualified dating data scientist. I drafted a stupid spreadsheet—literally just three columns in a notepad first, then I moved it to a proper file because the scribbles were a hot mess. The columns were:
- Month of the Year: Simple enough.
- Effort Score: A subjective score (1-10) of her emotional energy/actual time spent swiping/planning dates that month.
- Date Quality Quotient (DQQ): Did it lead to a second date? Was there crying? Was there a ghosting? (1=complete failure, 5=second date, 10=meeting the parents).
I dragged Sarah into the commitment. Her rule was simple: she could swipe all year, but the actual first date had to be deliberately focused on the month we were testing for the “peak performance.” The whole point was to isolate the variable of the calendar.
The Long Haul: Six Months of Failures
We kicked off the process in January. What a joke. The Effort Score was low, the DQQ was sitting at a solid 2. Everyone was post-holiday broke and grumpy. We scrapped January as an immediate write-off. February and March—her own sign’s season—were slightly better, but she just ended up dating other emotional water signs. It was like watching two ships sink together. I threw out that data; too much drama, not enough structure.
April was a massive push. High Effort Score. We forced the issue. What did we get? A handful of boring dinners and one guy who only talked about crypto. DQQ remained dismal. Sarah was ready to quit, threatening to shove my spreadsheet where the sun don’t shine. I had to talk her down; I had invested too much beer-money in this stupid exercise to stop.
The summer months—June, July, August—I thought these would be magic. Everyone’s happy, outside, drinking. But what I observed was chaos. Too much social pressure. Sarah, the sensitive Pisces, just felt overwhelmed. The dates were high-energy, but shallow. The connections flamed out within a week. Low DQQ again, even with a high Effort Score. It was exhausting.
The Cosmic Shift: When I Saw the Change
Then came the fall. We coasted through September and October. Tired. Almost giving up. The Effort Score was slipping. Sarah was back on the couch watching reality TV with me, swearing off men.
But I refused to let the spreadsheet die. I saw a small uptick. I said, “Okay, we’re going to try something stupid. We skipped May because of scheduling back then. Let’s try to replicate a pre-summer, stable vibe later in the year.”
That didn’t work. However, remember May? The one we missed? I told her, “Fine. If you’re not going to date now, we are going to use the apps to plan dates for May next year. We are going to back-load the effort.”
She agreed, mostly because she was too tired to argue. The months crawled by. Then, I witnessed the bizarre shift. In May. It was May that just clicked.
I don’t know if it’s the stable Taurus energy that grounds the emotional Pisces, or if everyone is just done with the winter misery but hasn’t fully lost their minds for summer fun yet. I don’t care about the astrology of it. I care about the results I recorded in that horrible file.
- Her Effort Score was relaxed (6/10), not frantic.
- She was meeting people who wanted stable things.
- The DQQ skyrocketed to a consistent 8/10.
I saw her actually enjoy spending time with a guy. No crying. No overthinking. Just… normal dates. She met her current boyfriend in the last week of May. A Taurus, naturally. They’re still together, five years later. My spreadsheet is long gone, probably dumped when I cleaned out my hard drive, but the lesson I drilled into the system remains: May is the damn sweet spot for a single Pisces looking for something real.
Stop wasting your energy fighting the flow. Time your initial pushes for May, and watch the calendar work its magic. Trust me, I’ve seen the data.
