confessions

Ok, so I'll admit it. I read my horoscope everyday. Mostly because it's entertaining. Rick Levine, my astrologist is often hit-or-miss, but he's a riot to read and always reminds me to bring the positive into my day each morning. However, this week, he was waayyyyyy off.

This would have been right on target:

Dear Aquarius,
While the [insert the name of some celestial body] vacillates around your sixth house of [something-or-other], you'll notice that certain things align this week while others seem constantly out of whack.

You may find yourself hit in the head by a basketball on your way to work. This orb will knock your glasses onto the ground about twelve feet away from your body, symbolizing [some random made-up symbolization, like "the disconnect between your visions and your actions" blah blah blah].

You'll probably also be ignored by your entire family after leaving several messages for them through various media, including text messages, emails, voicemails, and GoogleChat. However, don't let this get you down; instead, use these incidents that spark feelings of abandonment to [blah blah something about examining your obsessive need for control and nurture to reveal the subtle tensions within yourself blah].

{Horoscopes usually end on a positive note, so mine should have concluded with something like} Remember that it's ok to share your secrets with a safe place, and you're likely to discover more of those this week than you expected. Friends can ease the burdens, so try taking a chance on someone you trust.

Love, The Universe.

However, that is not what my horoscope said. So I didn't see any of it coming. Whoopsies.

This amendment at 10:37 AM Friday, September 19:
Dear Aquarius,
Beware food today, as you will most likely fumble and drop an entire (new) container of cottage cheese on the carpet. If you clean it up and cook up some salmon for a snack instead, you will only slip on the tile floor, falling on your ass, dropping the plate which will inevitably shatter, thereby ruining your salmon on the floor.
Love, The Universe.

But my would-be horror-scope didn't say anything of the sort. So I didn't foresee that either.