January 3, 2006: According to my yearly horoscope, as proferred by the Calgary Herald, today is a BIG DAY FOR PISCES. Today, we make a lot of money and start some world travel.
It is 6pm. Close of business. EOD. I just checked the mailbox. Nothing. My inbox. Nothing. There's no skywriting (bit dark for that anyhow). Nothing on the answering machine. No one has written a secret message in lipstick on one of the dining room windows. Nothing chalked on the driveway. I think I just have to face it: my horoscope is--wait for it--wrong. My brother in law set out today for Oman; perhaps he used up all the Pisces traveling credits for the city. Perhaps somewhere out there another Pisces has won the lottery.
Here I sit, motionless, without a hint of kinetic energy, rich in many ways except the most important one. A happy home does not a gas range buy. Nor an age-reducing facial. Nor bags of loose gemstones.
So it looks like it's up to me to cast a more responsible horoscope for myself, one that does not lead a person on and then break that person's heart.
Pisces! You're looking pretty good for your age, but you'll probably want to invest in some rich night cream on or around March 16. That unfinished novel of yours? Well, you aren't going to finish it this year either, although the planets are looking promising sometime after 2009. On the home front, look for some new living room blinds by mid-summer.
There. I think I can live up to that, and it to me.
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