The Fault in my Stars

Dating

Aug. 15, 2018

6:59 a.m.

75 degrees, 98 percent humidity, screeching sirens—a normal day. As always, I check my horoscope before drudging to the bathroom to make myself look presentable for my daily obstacles. They (cafeastrology.com) say, “you’re only as confident as your outfits.” That is when Venus is in retrograde and my seventh house is open to any in-person interactions.

            Right now, you’re being pushed to take life seriously and mature. Don’t ignore these feelings–they’re forcing you to confront yourself and make decisions about where you’re headed.

7:01 a.m.

Astrology is not something to lightly gloss over—upset the stars and you can end up in a three-year rut. By the end of it you’re just as bitter as a Scorpio, but with thinner eyebrows.

8:13 a.m.

            The stars neglected to remind me about unforeseen challenges this morning—grabbing cups firmly and securing contents before running through the threshold to catch public transport.

10:47 a.m.

            Ding! Your daily horoscope is ready.

Any endeavor you believed to be potentially fantastic may reveal some problems today, Gemini.

Thanks, Daily Horoscope. This reading maybe…hmm…three hours ago would have stopped me from spilling coffee on my favorite BR blouse.

12:15 p.m.

Ding! Check your daily horoscope with Co-Star Astrology!

You’ll be resilient in situations having to do with close relationships. There are many ways to practice intimacy.

2:02 p.m.

            Buzz. A text message floats on screen. The first line of the message doesn’t appear. My rule: no preview, no view. Unknown numbers are a sign in a planetary shift and I am not ready for another mercurial retrograde. My hair is still recovering from deadly amounts of bleach and color the last time Mercury decided to do a 180.

Buzz, buzz. My curiosity outweighs my rationale and astrological guidance.

Hey. It’s me. It’s been a while. What four…five years? I found my old phone and your number. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to message you.

2:05 p.m.

            Mercury must have turned on its heels. I pick up my phone to check it’s plane of orbit. Mercury decided to follow it’s intended path, making this shift in energy more monumental.

2:06 p.m.

            I tap out, “HE’S BACK” and tap send.  I forgot the apostrophe, the stars know what I meant to say. Lack of information trumps grammar when consulting the stars.

2:07 p.m.

No new messages. No alerts from my emotional Aquarius. No objections from my bullheaded Taurus. Not even an “emphasized message” from my fiery Leo.     

2:15 p.m.

Blank screen.

2:17 p.m.

15 minutes is enough time. The perfect balance of I’m busy but not too busy and self-absorbed to respond to an unknown number. It doesn’t indicate he takes precedence over other more important messages.

Hey! Backspace. Exclamation marks are too enthusiastic. Hey, how are you? No. Too clinical. Hey, it’s been a while. Wow. He already said that. Hi. Am I an Aries now?

2:22 p.m.

An angel number, I have to make a wish.

I wish the planets, stars, gods, and goddesses will send a sign. One that I’ll actually adhere to. One with my best interest in mind. Oh, and I wish my dry cleaning bill is less than $20, I don’t get paid until next Friday. Virgo, I’m counting on you.

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