Small Talk

What’s my sign? I don’t know

I’m just so confused. It seems I’m not who I thought I was, or at least, not who astrologers for 61 years have been telling me I was.
And you know how much stock I put into astrology and horoscope. It has always been the very first thing I turn to when I am truly bored and am reading old magazines in the doctor’s office.
I always enjoy reading outdated horoscopes to see if any of it actually applied to the past month of my life.
It rarely does, but it makes amusing reading anyway.
So you can imagine my distress when word came out recently that my old horoscope sign may not be the real me after all.  
A new school of thought insists that the moon’s gravitational pull has slowly moved the Earth in its axis over the past 3,000 years, creating about a one-month gap in the stars’ alignment.
The pushy new sign’s awkward name is Ophiuchus and it falls between Scorpio and Sagittarius, shoving almost everyone back a sign.
So what I always thought was Taurus now falls into Aries.
What I need to know is just when this happened.
Was it more than 61 years ago? Was it before I was born or after and if it was after, does it count?
Whew. The suspense is killing me.
I really can’t step outside again until we get this cleared up.
Am I actually a compassionate, stubborn, dependable, warmhearted, loving, sensitive, loyal Taurus who dislikes change? Well, kind of.
Or am I an adventurous, energetic, enthusiastic, confident, quick-witted, selfish, quick-tempered, impulsive and impatient Aries? Ummm, yeah, sort of.
I simply don’t know how to behave anymore. In my panic, I have decided to opt for my Asian Lunar Year sign, Year of the Ox. It’s not glamorous, but it is reliable. Oh boy, it is reliable. We oxen are known for fortitude and hard work. We are stable and persevering and tolerant with strong character. Ox people work hard without complaint, and do not believe in get-rich-quick schemes. So there you are. Moo.
Now I remember why I don’t like to gamble … on anything … ever. And why I used to put in 12-hour days without a whimper. But let’s not scrutinize this too closely or we would have to ponder why I am not really a plodder and don’t really care to work all that hard these days. But never mind.
Let’s just enjoy the fact that we have begun the Lunar New Year celebration for the Year of the Rabbit. Let’s shout “Gung Hay Fat Choy” in our best Cantonese accent and hope that everyone has a prosperous and glorious new year.
I think I’ll just focus on my sudden craving for some War Won Ton soup. And we can always turn to the fortune cookies for guidance.

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