Oh great, Mercury is in retrograde again. 

Is that planet ever going forward? It’s like Gemma going back to her needy ex-girlfriend. Ugh, move on. 

I’m not supposed to sign any contracts or buy electronics. (Why is this astrologer always talking about buying electronics? How much of my life does she think this task dominates?) 

Ohhh, and by the 7th, I’m going to be a huge bitch. A burst of furious energy will emerge from me at a social event—with either a close friend or a person from my past who has come back into my life bearing the brunt of it. Probably means I’ll ruin my niece’s birthday party. 

But you know, what am I supposed to do? It’s in the stars. 

If my cousin Jonathan shows up, he’ll still be mad that I keyed his car after I heard that his gangly-ass girlfriend Denise was talking shit. She looks like one of those tube men that dance around at the used car lot, except when she dances, she’s double-fisting Bud Lights. Makes sense because she’s a two-faced Gemini so she’s practically two separate drunks.

I can’t believe I’ve known her for 10 years and that she used to be my best friend until she blamed me for her dog going missing. I had to take a call! I can’t be watching your blind dog every second we’re at the park just because you’re paying me to dog-sit. I mean, I can’t do that when I babysit either. It was just a dog. Denise is CRAZY. And Jonathan thinks he’s hot stuff in his way too tight jeans; he’d have to slap his thigh to get a quarter out of his pocket except that’s not a problem because that loser never has any money. The only thing he has is a ballbag stuck in a denim mousetrap. 

Such an Aries.

It turned out Denise was talking about another girl with my same first name, but my horoscope that month warned me that adversaries were whispering behind my back, so it was only natural that I thought this was about me. Even though Denise’s gossip was about a chick who is a mother of three, divorced, and employed—and none of those characteristics apply to me. 

My horoscope also says that around the 15th, I’ll have a conflict over money. This could be related to any number of things because no one ever gives me what I deserve—that is just true every month. I still don’t have my lawsuit money from suing my last three bosses for wrongful termination. I don’t control the traffic or whether I remember to set my alarm, that’s the job of my Ninth House. In the meantime, my roommate Tommy is late paying my share of the rent because he “has to pay for my mom’s medical care.” The landlord is hassling me over text because he doesn’t know it’s Tommy that is late since I alone am on the lease. Tommy’s lucky I even let him live here. (I’m a Cancer so I’m generous.) It’s a good thing that I charge him three-quarters of the rent on this dump so that I’m not half-paying every month. 

Oh, great anyone born within five days of the emergence of the latest new moon will see a setback in their relationship. God, how many new moons are there? Don’t we have enough moons? Why am I constantly cock-blocked by moons? The setback part makes sense, though. Doug has been getting on my nerves, insisting that his restraining order means that I can’t show up to his work even though his work is an Applebee’s. So, I’m not supposed to get two for $22 entrees? That would be insane, Doug. There is another Applebee’s a mere five miles away, but we all know that’s the third-best Applebee’s in the city, and Doug’s is the second-best. The first best is, of course, right next to my apartment, and that’s why I chose to live there. 

Oh, the 23^rd will be a banner day? I doubt it, astrologer. That’s my ex-best friend Becky’s birthday. (Know-it-all Sagittarius who thinks I should stop using my grandmother’s credit card even though my grandmother totally doesn’t notice.) Nothing good has ever happened on that day, even if my mom is getting that bone marrow transplant from the half-sister she found on 23andMe. Like, that has nothing to do with me. This part of my monthly overview is a crock of shit. It’s too bad the other parts are 100 percent accurate, and I can do nothing about it. 

I can’t believe my horoscope is always telling me to be a huge bitch.