Two thousand twelve started with such a bang (New Year's Day I took part in a poetry marathon; the following day I had a poem published in a well-respected literary magazine; then spent an Edenic weekend with my newish boyfriend), I might have known that just 10 days later I'd fall off a cliff..."coincidentally" with transiting Neptune conjunct my 6th-house cusp in the final degree of Aquarius.
In late March 2011, the first time Neptune entered 29 degrees of Aquarius and my 6th house, I came down with the flu. The second time, six months later, I was heartbroken in a dying relationship. And both of these situations seem like a gourmet picnic compared with what is now afoot (pun intended): a suddenly worsening upper-ankle (Aquarius) sprain (Uranus, ruler of Aquarius) caused by a near fall (Uranus again!) several weeks ago, which means I will need to see an orthopedist at the precise moment it will bring tears to my eyes to deal with a co-pay: the unexpected (yet more Aquarius/Uranus) loss of my part-time job (6th house), the nook of stability in which I resided for the past 13 months while continuing to freelance and write. Oh, and I have until the end of March, when my lease is up, to get my income back on relatively solid ground. No pressure there! Neptune is many things, but solid is not one of them.
Actually, I have gone through far worse situations, and without the benefit of an emotional support network (i.e., a few real friends). However, with the Moon transiting my natal Moon sign of Scorpio, I feel pretty damned lonely right now. I am writing this post on company time (it's not as if they can let me go; they already did that last week). If I were literally alone right now, perhaps I would not feel so isolated. But with Neptune once again poised on my 6th-house cusp, I feel like a fish (Neptune) out of water (all but the cusp of my 6th house falls in Pisces).
The idea of performing later this week, with the Moon in Sagittarius, seems a cruel joke. But if I wish to be a true performance poet and not a self-pitying overgrown baby, I must turn this sludgy, drudgy feeling into something vibrant and inspirational, and make my support network proud.
Back to the drawing board...and back to work.