For years I read descriptions of Aries traits and didn’t really relate despite my April 3 birthday. I’m stubborn, independent and (sometimes) energetic, yes, but I’m not a leader who has trouble taking orders, I don’t really have a temper and I don’t have problems with follow-through. If anything, I’m compulsive in my follow-through.
To which people always said, Yeah, but what’s your rising sign? Because the explanation could not possibly be that astrology was a bunch of bullshit.
So when Thomas McBee, in his IBC post about dressing for your sign, included a link to a site that would do your chart, I had it do mine.
This explains so much! (Because astrology cannot possibly be a bunch of bullshit.) My rising sign is Cancer, which sounds a little ominous, but I do like crabs as food, pets and pretty much anything but an STD. My crabbiness explains why I’m fiercely loyal to my family, a sentimental fool and overly sensitive to criticism. Basically, I dish it like an Aries but take it like a Cancer. I’m a good time.
My moon sign—also important, apparently—is Libra. This makes me artistic, but the site warns: “You are not a self-starter. Be careful of a tendency to be overly self-indulgent (i.e., lazy).” I felt strangely vindicated. All my life I’ve told people I’m lazy and they kind of haven’t believed me because, I guess, my laziness is tempered by my rammish determination. Meaning, sometimes I force myself to drink lattes and make up stories.
If any of you out there know about this kind of stuff, maybe you can tell me if, like, my Libra moon is at a particularly influential place in the sky right now, if that’s even how it works. Because damn, I’ve been lazy lately. I spend 15 minutes of every writing hour searching “statement necklace” on eBay and 15 minutes of every yoga class talking to my sister on the phone in the car. I’m only fifty pages into our book for book club, which meets Sunday. And I keep trying to count pumpkin pie and apple turnovers among my recommended five-a-day fruits and vegetables.
This is a slow time of year at work, and I have a theory that humans are like goldfish when it comes to time. If the only thing on your to-do list is going to the post office, it will take you all day. (Okay, bad example since it’s the holidays and post offices are closing right and left. It easily could take all day.) If you have to pick up your kids, walk your dog, sweep your backyard, finish a novel, make dinner, see your friend’s play and write ten thank-you notes, you probably will. So right now my body has clicked into some kind of slow-ass rhythm where it balks at the notion that it might take me less than an hour to write an email.
Another theory I have is that I spent a year working very hard for something I didn’t get, and on some level I’m like, Fuck it, I’ll just be a couch potato. But I think the Libra factor is the most likely explanation, don’t you?
I know that December isn’t really known as a time for getting one’s shit together—that’s more of a January thing—but I just made an informal list of things I plan to get done (sorry, AK) during my time off, and things I plan not to do, which mostly involve fucking around online and shopping, and combinations thereof. I’ll let you know how it goes.