Astrology famously has it that Virgo is the ultimate perfectionist of the zodiac, but Scorpio can't be too far behind -- this sign is "all or nothing" in its approach to everything in life, and has serious control issues (i.e., has to have it at all costs).
The Moon placed in Scorpio indicates all of the above, plus extreme emotional sensitivity and volatility added to the brew. Combine a Scorpio Moon with important placements in Virgo, and any venture that falls short of what the Lunar Scorpion perceives to be perfect will unleash a torrent of blame and self-loathing.
Specifically, I gave a mediocre poetry performance last night, with the Moon in early Scorpio. At first, I blamed everything that was out of my control: a microphone that barely worked, an introduction that did not use my preferred "T.C." moniker because my sweetie, having arrived at the venue first, signed me up and he forgot about the nom de plume thing, and the malevolent guy behind the cafe counter (possibly the owner of the venue) put me on guard straightaway; he'd hissed unpleasantries at me for not immediately forking over the $2 donation while I was scribbling some last-minute changes to my brand-new poem before the show began. (This is the same charmer, by the way, who snarled at me for accidentally bumping into him en route to the restroom back in January, so I felt within my rights to prioritize poetry revising over donation giving.)
But the truth was that part of the mediocrity was because of things that were within my control. I barely practiced one of the two poems I performed, and the other one was fresh out of the oven of my brainpan; the Sun/Uranus conjunction yesterday morning had inspired me to breathe new life into a poem I'd abandoned years ago. It is very unlike me to come to a reading so ill-prepared, but just as the Sun/Uranus conjunction brings creative inspiration, it also brings carelessness and cockiness. In the past year, most of my performances, both featured and open-mic, were strong; I counted on the same magic happening without putting in the necessary work.
Playing the blame game (both outer and inner) ensured that I would be tossing and turning all night, and wide awake at 4:30 a.m., possibly the worst of the wee hours.
Now I feel sorry that I wasted all that energy bitching and moaning and lashing out instead of doing something either more constructive or more fun on a Scorpio Moon. Oh well, there's always tonight...at the very least, I think I will be able to sleep.