My May Madness: Testing the Pisces Pitfalls
You know me, I usually stick to documenting my home renovation disasters or maybe the occasionally successful sourdough starter, but this time? This was a real-life social experiment. And it stemmed from pure desperation. Last April was a mess—I mean, a total financial, professional, and emotional train wreck. My buddy, Mark, who’s totally into the stars, kept telling me, “Dude, your alignment was trash. But May? May is where the Pisces really get screwed unless they actively dodge the incoming debris.”
I laughed, of course. Astrology? Come on. But after I accidentally submitted my expense report to the CEO instead of the accounting department, and my car decided to blow its transmission right after I bought an expensive, totally unnecessary gaming monitor, I started thinking: maybe I needed some external advice. Maybe Mark wasn’t entirely crazy.
Step One: Identifying the Enemy Warnings
I started digging. I didn’t just read one forecast; I devoured twenty. I cross-referenced the common themes. I treated these warnings like they were penetration test reports for my life. I pulled out three major, consistent threats that every site seemed to scream about for Pisces in May:
- Financial Instability/Impulse Buys: The stars said, “Your wallet is a leaky sieve. Expect sudden, painful expenses.”
- Communication Catastrophes: Specifically, conflict with superiors or authority figures. “You will say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
- Energy Burnout and Health Neglect: “You will push too hard and crash hard.”
I took those three threats and decided to spend the entire month of May actively, aggressively avoiding them. I wanted proof. I wanted to show Mark he was either a genius or I was wasting 31 days of my life.
Implementation: A Month Spent Dodging Shadows
The avoidance process started immediately. I acted like the universe was actively trying to trip me up, and I was navigating a minefield.
Dodging the Financial Bullet:
I locked down my credit card. I mean, physically. I put it in a Tupperware container, filled it with water, and put it in the back of the freezer. My debit card was restricted to essential purchases only—groceries, gas, maybe a cheap coffee if I was feeling wild. I fought off at least five major online shopping urges. The biggest one was a ridiculously high-end espresso machine. I stared at the checkout screen for forty minutes, sweaty and twitchy, before I finally slammed the laptop shut. I saved a solid thousand bucks, but the mental cost of fighting that impulse felt like ten thousand.
Navigating the Communication Minefield:
This was the hardest part. My boss, Greg, is a walking contradiction, and usually, I’m the guy who pushes back politely when he suggests something dumb. But the horoscope said, “DO NOT ROCK THE BOAT.” So, I became a silent nodder. Greg would propose a totally unworkable plan, and instead of raising a red flag, I just smiled and said, “Great idea, Greg.”
I spent the first two weeks of May biting my tongue so hard I nearly gave myself a nervous tick. The predicted conflict with authority didn’t happen, but something worse did: The bad plans I didn’t argue against started becoming real projects. I ended up having to clean up the resulting mess anyway, but now I had to do it quietly, without complaining, because I was the one who passively agreed to the initial disaster. I avoided a verbal confrontation but created a monumental workload for myself.
Protecting My Health:
I took the burnout warning seriously. I decided to prioritize sleep above all else. This meant I yanked myself out of my early morning routine and started trying to get eight solid hours. Seems good, right? Wrong. My body is used to seven hours and a 5 AM wake-up. Trying to force an extra hour of sleep just resulted in me lying awake, staring at the ceiling, stressing about the things I wasn’t getting done because I was ‘resting.’ I doubled down on vitamins and gentle exercise, but the stress from avoiding the other pitfalls just canceled it all out. By the end of May, I was physically rested but mentally fried.
The Final Tally: Did the Avoidance Work?
Short answer? Kind of, but not in the way you’d expect.
I successfully avoided the three predicted pitfalls:
- No massive impulse purchases.
- No screaming match with Greg.
- No sudden illness or physical crash.
But the act of avoiding them created new, self-inflicted wounds. The money I saved on the espresso machine? It went straight to a therapist in June because I’d spent all of May obsessively controlling every micro-decision. I didn’t argue with Greg, but the subsequent project collapse meant I was working 12-hour days cleaning up the slack.
The real warning for May, I realized, wasn’t in the stars. It was that over-analyzing life based on vague predictions is the biggest pitfall of all. I spent so much energy running away from imaginary problems that I completely tripped up over the actual path right in front of me. I turned a potentially normal month into a self-imposed prison, all because I took the cosmic warnings too literally. Next time the stars give me advice, I’m sticking to the sourdough.
