Let the Cosmos Be Your Guide

Do you ever read your monthly horoscope? Don't. It will fuck you up. You don't think it will because we all know it is hoodoo bullshit, but it gets in your head. Venus in retrograde at the end of the month is going to be bad for me. That's right. I am advised not to have any medical treatments through September. I wanted to get some. Now what? If I do and I get sepsis or something worse, I'll be blaming myself. 

"You knew better.  The soothsayer told you." 

My love life is supposed to be interesting.  It doesn't say "good."  Interesting.  I reported this to my mother yesterday at dinner and laughed.  

"You could have a girlfriend if you wanted to.  You won't let anyone close."

This is an old refrain from mom.  She thinks I should just head down to the dollar store and get one.  

"Old Al, he was nothing to look at.  But he always had girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ, mom. . . his girlfriends looked like sacks of potatoes.  They were lot lizards living in dumpy trailer parks."

I could tell by her look what she was thinking.  "He wasn't alone." 

I should bring a Thai hooker to dinner one night.  "Hey, ma. . . you were right!"

The good news is my horoscope says I will be really creative this month.  But. . . I shouldn't make any decisions about home decor.  Bummer.  I need a new bed.  

But as EVERYBODY now knows, tonight is the Full Buck Super Moon.  It will be much closer to earth than normal.  You will be able to feel its magnetic pull.  Now this is a scientific fact, not horoscope stuff.  It is a sociological fact, too.  There will be more births and violent crime tonight.  Every policeman and doctor knows this.  You should, too.  

What my horoscope did not tell me is that I would fall apart yesterday.  After walking the streets of Gotham the day before, I could barely limp from room to room.  My knee was swollen and stiff and painful.  It seemed to infect my entire body, every arthritic joint aching and throbbing.  It spread to my head and my soul.  I was head sick, soul sick.  I sat in a chair all day doing nothing.  Maybe I wept, I'm not sure.  My mother said early in the day that she would cook dinner, so I knew I would have to leave the house, but I didn't want to.  I hate to tell you this part, but I hadn't bathed for three days.  I was wearing the same clothes that I had worn on Friday and Saturday, the same t-shirt I had slept in.  I had brushed my teeth, but that was all.  I hadn't slept well (or much or at all) for a couple of nights.  I had made a mistake and read some things I shouldn't have, too.  I was looking for clues.  

I don't think I'd had any water.  

Today I will get back on track.  But I am going to have to do something about my knee.  

I like to tell you these things to make you feel better, you who face life standing on your own two legs willing to suffer the slings and arrows of fate. . . etc.  

Oh. . . and I did develop some film yesterday.  And as predicted, it did not cheer me up.  Just a lot of work for nothing.  And so it goes.  

I'm such a drama boy.  Don't worry about me.  Destiny is not in our hands.  We just have to trust that everything is fine.  Look to the moon and stars.  Let the cosmos be your guide.