Horoscope doomsday

I know. I’m 41, I should be past this. But this is worse than coffee or wine or unavailable men
… I can’t give up my horoscope.

Born under the sign of the goat, (Capricorn for those heathens reading this), I learned from elementary school age that I was destined to be pragmatic, wise and stubborn.

Cool!

Not so much. When I wailed and said I wanted to be a bull or a lion, my teacher told me that this was, like my weird toenail (don’t ask), something I was stuck with. In an attempt to make me feel better, her misguided assurances that somehow being a goat would make me a good teacher or a scientist just filled me with despair. I didn’t want to be a scientist. I just wanted to be a fish, heck even a crab would do. Anything but the stinky goat. My nemesis Sarah had a goat and I didn’t like him at all. He didn’t do anything and he stunk.

Any other sign was more appealing. The Lion seemed to have a lot going for it – pride, confidence and independence. No-one would mess with me if I was a Lion, plus I could probably snack on that damn goat. 
Even the chick who I thought was washing her hair (turns out she was pouring water), was sociable, energetic and gregarious. Totally fun to be around. I bet no-one told her she’d make a good accountant or scientist.

But Capricorn’s are nothing if not steady and rational, so I accepted my fate, but decided to keep my eye on these planet things. See if I could escape that science thing.

30 odd years later I’m still keeping my eyes on those planets.
I wish I could scoff  and join the ranks of the skeptical, but I’ve found my astrological sign eerily on the ball. I am loyal and determined. I persevere (a polite way of saying I’m committed to wearing you down until I get my way), and I’m reserved to a fault, despite a ranging lunatic living deep inside (I’ve found tequila sets it free pretty damn fast though).  I am a total goo ball with empathy and compassion, but to the average Joe, I’m kind of cold. I rarely hug – those horns get in the way. And don’t get me started on loving work.. I think I covered that a few weeks back.

But its not just me that I notice. I’ve learned that my friends, my lovers and even my co-workers all tend to align to the earth signs (like me), and those who’ve dropped off the radar are the ones which don’t mix with my unique brand of grass eating boring ness.  I’ve dated across the spectrum but the only ones I ever get close to understanding fall into the same signs, time and time again.

So what is this? Do I believe that the movement of planets determine who’s my buddy? Its ridiculous, I know. But why oh why does it happen that anyone born in February drives me nuts and I think all Aries are a little bit argumentative and shouty for me.Whats next? Republicanism?

Yikes.

Which brings me to  the reason why this is on my mind this week.  
According to my horoscope, March is the month of hell for me in the career arena and apparently I might be moving….

You may hear news at home that changes the path of your career, or a decision you were about to make will be influenced by needs of family or housing possibilities in a new location. News will affect your financial situation, quite unexpectedly, and not in a way you like… something seems to shock you’

Which frankly, doesn’t bode well for that promotion I was praying for or the lease that I just renewed.  Oh jeez… maybe it is time for the white beardy guy int he sky.

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