Man, last year was a mess. Absolute disaster. I swear, every time I tried to start something big—a new freelance gig, a quick investment, even just buying new tires—the universe just handed me a pile of expensive junk. I realized my usual method of “just go with the flow” (classic Pisces move, right?) was hemorrhaging cash and stress. So, I decided 2025 was going to be different. I was going to engineer the avoidance.
I committed to one thing: finding the single worst, most chaotic month for a Pisces in 2025, and then strategically planning my entire year around canceling all serious obligations during that blackout period. This wasn’t fluffy magazine astrology; I was going deep. I needed data I could actually use to schedule my life.
The Data Dive: Pulling the Raw Charts
I started the whole process by isolating the heavy hitters. Forget Sun signs and daily forecasts. I opened up my charting software—the clunky desktop version, not the slick phone app—and pulled the ephemeris for the whole year of 2025. I was zeroing in on three main troublemakers that always seem to target us water signs: Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars. Since Neptune is chilling in Pisces anyway, that’s just background noise, but when Saturn starts squaring Neptune, or Mars gets aggressive, that’s when things hit the fan.
I spent two full days cross-referencing retrogrades. I charted Mercury’s three messy periods, but those are just annoying delays. I was hunting for the big financial and relationship wreckers. I scrolled, I highlighted, and I swore a lot, trying to decipher the ugly, dense tables in a couple of old scanned PDF astrology books I found buried deep on a forum. I mapped out every major ingress—when a planet moves into a new sign—specifically looking for hard aspects hitting the mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and us Pisces). If it hits the mutable signs, we feel it first, usually as generalized confusion or sudden expense.
The findings weren’t subtle. Most of Q1 looked surprisingly manageable. Maybe a small push to start something new. Late spring looked great for travel. But then, right after the summer heat kicked in, the charts started looking like a cosmic traffic accident. I isolated the worst period: the first three weeks of August 2025.
Identifying the Cosmic Wrecking Ball
Why August? It was the convergence of sheer frustration and confusion, all wrapped up in a package deal.
- Mars in Gemini: Mars entered Gemini and was just itching for a fight. For Pisces, this often means communication breakdowns, car trouble, or unexpected neighbor disputes. Pure stress.
- Jupiter Involvement: Jupiter in Gemini started making hard squares to Neptune in Pisces. Jupiter usually expands things, but when it squares Neptune, it just expands the fog and the delusion. Financial risk looked sky-high.
- Venus Retrograde Shadow: The absolute kicker, the thing that convinced me to put a stop to everything, was the looming Venus retrograde cycle. It wasn’t fully retrograde yet, but the shadow period was deep in effect in August, setting the stage for massive financial screw-ups and dramatic relationship tensions. This combination meant any major commitment made in August was going to cost double and feel awful.
I looked at my real-life calendar and realized I had tentatively scheduled two huge things for August 2025: a necessary, expensive dental procedure and a big family trip to the coast that required booking non-refundable hotels months in advance.
I immediately pulled the plug on the trip planning. I called my dentist’s office and shifted the appointment for the major work right into early November. I didn’t give them a reason; I just moved it. My rationale was solid: I was not going to inject massive financial or physical stress into the period where the cosmos was already screaming “FOG!”
Executing the Annual Plan of Avoidance
The next step was building the year’s framework based on this “avoidance mandate.” I created a simple, color-coded planning sheet. I didn’t call it a “manifestation board.” I called it the “Don’t Be Stupid Schedule.”
I categorized activities based on the celestial map:
January to April (GO TIME): The charts looked great for starting new learning endeavors and minor income streams. I scheduled a photography course and launched a new niche service online. Action verbs: Launched, Enrolled, Started.
May to July (REVIEW & COAST): The perfect time for organization, paperwork, and settling debts. Nothing new, just maintaining the momentum from Q1. Action verbs: Settled, Filed, Organized.
August (THE SHUTDOWN): This month is now strictly reserved for things that can’t be messed up: binge-watching, cleaning out closets, and reading books I already own. No new contracts. No major conversations. No big spending. I blocked out every weekend from commitments. Action verbs: Blocked, Waited, Avoided.
September to December (RELAUNCH): Once the mess of August clears, especially once Venus moves direct again, Q4 looks like a powerhouse for serious money decisions and long-term travel plans. I can push the big coastal trip to October, and the finances should be solid by then. Action verbs: Pushed, Commenced, Invested.
It feels slightly insane, spending days just charting planets to decide when to stay home and fold laundry, but knowing exactly which month I need to hold my breath has given me more peace than any spontaneous plan ever could. I’ve effectively taken the cosmic steering wheel out of my own hands for that single month. I just look at the schedule now and feel relieved. August 2025? Already handled. By doing nothing, I’m planning everything.
