Stupid Stars

I read my horoscope every day. Because I like to read fiction.


I also believe in poltergeists, ESP, and especially the chupacabra.

The horoscope in my local newspaper - because I also believe in print media, which is stranger than all that other stuff combined - includes a number rating each day in addition to the usual platitudes about love, work, and following your damn heart. So you can see if you're having a day that's a 10 - woo-hoo! - or a two.


AKA most days ending in Y.

So for the last several days, my horoscope has pegged me at a solid 9.

The lesson is: Horoscopes are stupid.

Also a nine.

On the other hand, others look up to me as a leader and true love is just around the corner.

Whatever, stars.

And Bigfoot. I totally believe in Bigfoot.

The only thing that can accurately predict what kind of day I'm going to have is my own attitude. I can look adversity in the face and overcome it, I can stare down obstacles and sail over them, I can get through anything if I believe I can.

Because I always have before. And I'm not going to stop now.

I believe there are better days ahead.

And ghosts in the pantry. Believe that, too.

If I just relax and let things be, they'll work out for the best.

At least that's what my horoscope says.

Oops. Sorry. Force of habit.