Man, let me tell you, July started like a complete dumpster fire. Absolutely nothing was sticking. I was trying to push forward on three different projects—a client proposal, organizing my garage, and figuring out why my coffee machine kept making weird noises—and every single one just crashed and burned.
I felt like I was running into a brick wall every morning. I’m usually the kind of person who just powers through, brute forcing my way to a solution. That’s always been my style. But by the fifth of July, I was totally drained. I needed a new playbook, something completely outside my usual operating system. I was so desperate, I figured, what’s the harm in trying something genuinely ridiculous?
The Start: Admitting I Needed Cosmic Help (Or Just a Routine)
I remembered my partner joking that I should just “read the stars” since nothing else was working. I’m not a New Age guy, trust me. I think astrology is mostly noise. But that little jab stuck in my head. I needed structure, and if a bunch of star charts could provide a random, non-negotiable structure, maybe that was the trick.
So, I went online and typed in the search query: “pisces monthly horoscope july.” Why Pisces? Honestly, no real reason other than my current emotional state felt suitably watery and chaotic, like a fish flopping around on dry land. I didn’t bother checking a dozen sites. I just clicked the first result that looked clean, scanned the jargon, and immediately zeroed in on the ‘Career & Finance’ section.
What I pulled out wasn’t rocket science, but it was surprisingly specific.
- “The first half of July demands retreat and organization, not outward thrust.”
- “Financial breakthroughs come not from new sources, but by deeply reviewing existing expenditures around the 18th.”
- “The final week is ideal for clearing old debts or completing long-delayed communication tasks.”
My typical July plan was the exact opposite: push hard, chase new money, and ignore the tedious paperwork. This horoscope told me to slam the brakes and clean up my mess.
The Execution: Following Ridiculous Orders
I committed to treating these three points like gospel for the rest of the month. It was an experiment. If it failed, I lost nothing but time, which I was already wasting anyway.
Phase 1: Retreat and Organization (July 5th – 15th)
I immediately pulled the plug on chasing that big client proposal. My instinct screamed this was stupid, that I was losing momentum. But I forced myself to instead dive into the disorganized chaos of my digital files. I opened up spreadsheets I hadn’t touched since February. I spent three full days just naming files properly, deleting duplicate backups, and building out a simple, stupid-proof filing system. It was boring as hell. I felt zero motivation, but the damn horoscope told me to retreat, so I retreated.
Phase 2: The Financial Review (The 18th)
I scheduled a four-hour block for the 18th, specifically because the reading mentioned that date. I printed off every single bank statement, credit card bill, and SaaS subscription invoice from the last six months. I spread them all out on the dining room table. I was looking for breakthroughs from existing expenditures. I didn’t think I’d find much.
But while I was poring over the data, I noticed something weird. A recurring charge for $99.99 every month. I tracked it back. It was a software subscription for a tool I used two years ago and thought I had cancelled. They hadn’t sent an email receipt in months, and it was just quietly eating away at my business account. I called them up, spent 45 minutes arguing with a bot and then a person, and finally got them to stop the charges. The breakthrough wasn’t a new contract; it was finding $1,200 a year of wasted money I had completely forgotten about.
Phase 3: Clearing the Decks (Last Week of July)
The final task was “long-delayed communication.” For me, that meant dealing with the mountain of annoying, small emails I usually deferred—requests for favors, answering questionnaires, and most importantly, finally writing the damned thank-you note to a former mentor who had given me a huge referral back in May. I kept pushing that off because it felt like low-priority fluff.
I knocked out that list in two days. The interesting thing happened after I sent the note to the mentor. He immediately replied, mentioning he was looking for someone to consult on a small, fast project. Because I had done the seemingly pointless task of writing that note, I was instantly top-of-mind. I jumped on a call with him the next day. It wasn’t the huge contract I had originally been chasing, but it was clean, profitable work that paid out within 48 hours.
The Realization: It Was Never About the Stars
Did following the Pisces horoscope magically align the planets for me? Hell no. It was utter nonsense, probably written by some guy drinking lukewarm coffee in a basement in Cincinnati.
What it did was force me to stop doing what felt urgent and start doing what was truly important—the tedious, organizational crap I always skip. It provided the external structure I couldn’t impose on myself. When the first half of July was full of chaos, that enforced period of retreat meant I wasn’t just spinning my wheels; I was sharpening them.
I realize now that my problem wasn’t bad luck; my problem was terrible organization compounded by stubbornness. The horoscope wasn’t a forecast; it was an accidental project manager. I spent the last day of July reflecting, looking at the spreadsheet of completed tasks. Everything that worked this month was tied directly back to that goofy list of cosmic demands.
So yeah, I read a ridiculous horoscope, I followed it blindly, and I came out ahead. Next month? Maybe I’ll try the Leo reading. Just kidding. Probably not. But I definitely learned my lesson about the power of simply cleaning up the mess before trying to build something new.
