So, usually I think horoscopes are nonsense. **Note to Readers: At this moment, my mother has blanched and is fanning her bosom (and for that visual, you’re welcome, all the men in my family)** My mom has sent me my daily, monthly and yearly horoscopes since the advent of email, and even gave me an “astrological reading” one year for Christmas. The astrologist told me I would fall madly in love that year, and I promptly told her she was nuts. Then, three months later, I locked eyes with the love of my life, the man I just kissed as he took our daughter to soccer practice. Now, don’t get me wrong, even finding true love did not convince me horoscopes have any credence, but I still take a peek from time to time.
For the next two days, I have a mountain of pressure hanging over me. I’ve got to PERFORM in front of a lot of people, and, even though that’s my job, it can still sometimes send me swirling into the abyss that is my blonde head. When a script is beautifully written, I can’t stop thinking it’s mine to ruin, and that messes with my mojo. I’m most often super-clutch when it comes to grace and performance under pressure. I mean, when the time actually comes, I’ll feel the world slow down and hear my breath, and all will be just fine. However, the days leading up to the event can be rough. So, I peeked. I peeked at the horoscope. It’s a dangerous move, folks, kinda like stepping on the scale before a big date. Don’t do it. I don’t recommend it. NOT SAFE.
But today, I scored. In the grand scheme of things, I’m such a lucky, lucky girl, and it’s always nice to be reminded: