Star Struck Style

I took a week off from work early in the year to celebrate my sixtieth birthday. I was supposed to be doing that in Las Vegas, but Donald Trump and the fascist regime he is presiding over got in my way. I promised myself that I won’t return to America until he’s gone.

Anyway, I had a great time pretending to be in Las Vegas with my friend who joined me here in Edmonton. We spend our time doing all the things we normally do when we visit Sin City. We shopped, we ate, and we gambled.

I’m planning to do that one more time before I return to a normal schedule at the end of the month. I’ve got a few extra days off from leading the fitness classes I’ve been teaching for the last forty years. I was looking at my horoscope to see when I might have some luck, and I’ve decided that the best day for me to enjoy another mock vacation will be in two weeks from today when Venus catches up to Uranus in my eighth house. That will be my last day off before I return to my regular schedule, so it will be the perfect day to celebrate the end of my convalescence.

Until then, I need to keep my feet on the ground and stop myself from doing anything stupid. Mars exits Pisces this afternoon, so maybe this irrational idea that I should be doing anything besides what I’m currently doing will subside. I hope so! All I can think of lately is breaking free, but in reality nothing is really holding me back besides a little incision in my abdomen and the doctor’s orders to take it easy for a while. Only a fool would consider my current circumstances to be repressive. In fact, the last four weeks have been more like a vacation than anything I’ve experienced since the pandemic. So, I’m going to sit back and wait for Mars to make its move, and I’m going to promise myself that I won’t do anything rash until my vacation day arrives in two weeks from now.

It’s good to have a goal . . .