Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
This week is going to suck. Not because anything bad will happen, per se. Quite the opposite; some very sweet things are likely to head your way. It’ll suck, rather, because the glare of the spotlight has already begun to seem too intense; you’re blistering under all this adoring attention–which lately resembles obsessive scrutiny–and there’s no escaping it, at least until the Sun travels into Virgo next week. Until that relief arrives, hang in there. Slather on some psychic sunblock, because it’s high noon of notoriety for one more week.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
Even the dog can figure out some basic cues. For instance, when I’m still naked and wandering around my apartment in the morning, he knows there’s no chance of us going out; he doesn’t even bother getting up until I’ve put on pants, and shoes. Then he starts lobbying for a walk when it might actually do him some good. In other words, he gets it: Timing is everything. You should get it, too. You want what you want now. It’s understandable. What’s hard to wrap your head around is that you simply can’t have it now, but you can have it later. You just have to learn to choose your moment better than you have been. Work on that this week.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
When you were a kid, you were so proud when Mom mounted your drawings on the fridge. But at some point, you started applying standards to your work, and preventing its dissemination unless it met them. That’s all well and good; the kind of crap most kids produce is cute, and worthy of admiration, coming from them. But from an adult it’s mostly pathetic. Still, I mention this because your standards, consequently, are way too high. You’ve long since graduated from stick figures and primary colors. What you’re putting out now is actually pretty damn good–and we want to see it. Show it us, please. We’ll give you a smiley face and a gold star, if it helps.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
Most of the time you’re a diligent recycler. You’re one of the few people you know who even tries to correctly sort the trash. So I’m confused why you wouldn’t bother to kind of go through this huge bin of people and situations you’re simply tossing out the window. There are lots of reusable bits and bobs in there with all the junk you should by all rights be getting rid of. This baby-with-the-bathwater strategy is understandable, considering some of the screwed-up shit and venomous critters floating in said bathwater. But, come on. Save the baby.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
Gingerly peel off your clothing after today’s bad sunburn. Take a cool bath. Smear yourself with aloe (or better yet, get somebody to tenderly do it for you). You’ve been overexposed to a normally beneficent influence, and you got burnt. Now you’ve got to deal with that–mostly by staying away from that scorching entity, which you’re currently ultra-sensitized to. If you can manage to keep your distance for a week or so, you should be alright; your skin may not even peel. If, however, you can’t logistically excuse yourself from the nuclear asshole who did this to you, do your best to insulate yourself, prepare to lose at least your outer skin, and hang on ‘til next week, when some cloud cover should help you out.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
Your first instinct is to swat at the buzzing insect the moment it comes within reach, before you’ve even had a chance to assess whether it’s actually a threat. That’s silly. Certainly notice it, and pay attention to what kind of bug it is, and what it’s up to. If it merits killing by your standards, destroy it regretfully, or with glee, whichever works. But notice that a lot of the little critters buzzing around you are nothing more than annoying–and some of them might even be beneficial. The same, naturally, is even more true of the human pests flitting around bothering you. Some of them could be doing you more good than harm; consider that before unilaterally squashing all of them.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You’re so focused on the big ideas and the grand dramatic gestures at times that you forget the little shit. What you ought to remember is that the little shit is often what makes life good. For example, for me the little shit takes the form of the expensive shampoo and conditioner rather than the cheap stuff, fresh strawberries in my cereal, and a cold beer on a hot day. You go to much greater lengths and expense to enact such minor improvements on your day-to-day life, when you could achieve far greater (if more subtle) effects with just a few bucks and an ounce of self-indulgence. Try it. You’ll like it.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Not a huge fan of the Olympics? Well, you should be. They’re rife with examples of determined people who possess incredible focus (and yes, sponsors and patrons). You could benefit from emulating their example, as your chief failing right now is a lack of focus (not just sponsors and patrons, which you could use as well). You do so many things well that it almost doesn’t seem worthwhile to put in the kind of time it would take to become great at any one of them. However, should you choose to shift your status from Jill-of-all-Trades to Master-of-One, this would be an excellent week to start–but not finish. This kind of race is no 100-meter dash. It’s a triathlon that’ll last years. Yet, somehow, I think you’re up for it.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
You can talk yourself into (or out of) anything–and that’s what gets you in trouble. You shouldn’t have to convince yourself of anything this week. You either know it in your gut, or you don’t. Quell internal arguments quickly, as they’ll only confuse you and get you so twisted around that you won’t know anymore which way was the right one. Rationalizations are bullshit. Abstain from their tempting gray areas. Things are either black or white right now–or at the very least compelling and relatively unequivocal shades of grey. You don’t need to entertain lengthy debates. Just do what you’ve got to do, with a minimum of deliberation.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Taurean chemist, Thomas Midgley, Jr., invented CFCs, as well as the idea of putting lead into gasoline (among many other things), unknowingly screwing us all over. He died (strangled in the cords of a machine he invented) without ever knowing how damaging and toxic his inventions were to life on earth. Although on an exponentially smaller scale, a couple of the things you’re up to are inadvertently causing harm to those around you (and, in some cases, yourself). It’s not your fault; you had no way of knowing–‘til now. This week, please take notice of these detrimental side effects of your activities, so you can limit or eliminate them.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
You’re good at fitting into the cracks, and also cramming your creative expression in there, too. You could write a whole novel in the margins of a deck of playing cards, or paint masterpieces on your fingernails. But why should you? Just because you’re so endlessly flexible that you can squeeze yourself into a shoebox doesn’t mean you’re required to do that. It’s good to have that capacity, but it’s screwed up to have to constantly exercise it. Take up space this week–not simply as much as you need (which is actually quite tiny), but as much as you want.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
You might regard yourself as sovereign of your very own micronation, but until you meet the standards described in the Montevideo Convention (a permanent population, defined borders, and the capacity to enter into relations with other states (and therefore earn their recognition)), you’re nothing but a pretend monarch ruling a fiefdom in your own head. Having a vivid internal mythology is healthy, and a hell of a lot of fun. But why stop there? You can certainly make particular key elements of it dramatically real, should you choose to, and this would be a good week to try.
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