While I am a fan or a sucker of the horoscopes, only if they’re telling me pretty and fanciful lies, I will admit I am a junkie for the scopes—I need help.  A twenty-eight day program on moving on from those compelling 2.5 lines of pure, uncut bliss generated by some astro-dealer sitting directly behind fortune cookie pimp.

I once read and went out and bought an outfit for that special evening that was going to change my life. Right after a day of predicted promotions from my boss, a long-lost friend from twenty years ago coming to call and a stopover at the lotto booth with the five winning numbers.  Oh, and to go ahead and buy myself that yacht I always wanted because it was my sign that I always loved sailing.

It all made perfect sense.  Why didn’t I think of this sooner?  As it turns out, I had been reading the wrong sign, by mistake of course, — somebody else sign – different sign… I felt a little voyeuristic and so sorry.    How would I like it if me and four million of my fellow same sign mates had others from another sign reading our highly personal instructions on how to be unique.

So, I returned the dress and the yacht.  I didn’t exactly get a promotion that particular day – my boss got laid off himself.  The friend of twenty years ago was a Master Card collection agent—thought I had lost him for good.  But I did win a free lotto ticket for next month’s draw.

Word to the wise – make sure you’re reading the correct sign before you don’t follow it.


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