Frankly, dear readers, I have been far too blue this month to wish you a happy new year. The world continues to wobble on its Uranus-Pluto square of an axis, with satirical cartooonists being murdered by homegrown terrorists in Paris and more exercises in bloody futility. Ah, but never mind the rest of the world: at home, the U.S. economy is well out of the valley of the shadow of recession. Wall Street is humming. Congress canceled a vote restricting abortion -- for now -- because it managed to piss off their distaff RepubliCON counterparts. Your daddy is rich, your momma's good-looking, they just seem a little weird, surrender, but don't give yourself away. If you aren't recognizing my mashup lyrics, turn to Google and all will become clear as a river whose crystalline quality is due to its complete lack of marine life.
And life seems more fragile than ever. Earlier this month, an acquaintance of mine whom I knew from various parties straight out of a Fellini film failed to regain consciousness from the coma he'd slipped into due to a fall down a flight of stairs prior to the new year. He couldn't have been any older than yours truly -- perhaps even a bit younger. My best friend's friend is dying. Another friend's best friend just had a serious stroke and is in a medically induced coma. All making my first-ever pinched nerve and julienned sanity look like a small order of fries.
Mercury turned Retrograde at 17 degrees of Aquarius on Wednesday 1/21 at 10:54 a.m. BST (Brooklyn Standard Time). It turns Direct at 1 degree of Aquarius three Wednesdays later, 2/11, at 9:57 a.m. Now repeat after me:
Nothing important -- or even not so important -- will be resolved during these three weeks.
If you're worrying even more than usual, or obsessing endlessly over what might've been ("I coulda been a bartendah!"), you're right on schedule. Don't even bother trying to relax. It'll just make you more tense.
Those bad habits you swore off for good on January 1? They've really missed you. They're back for a visit. Depending on the degree of harm these badass visitors bring back into your life, either fall off the wagon with a chocolate-stained smile or check yourself into a rehab clinic immediately.
Nothing will be resolved during these three weeks.
That extremely important binding contract you just signed? Whether it's related to marriage, a job, or a home, it may wind up being not as binding as you had every good reason to think. Oh well, sucks to be you. At least you'll have plenty of company.
If your doctor calls you in to discuss some rather alarming lab results, and you had the bloodwork or whatever done after last Tuesday (1/20), before you panic, demand a retest...preferably after 2/10 if you can wait that long. If you can't, get a second opinion after 2/10. That does
not mean that you won't have to go coffin shopping -- just that it shouldn't be your first response.
Has your sibling, neighborhood pal, BFF-who's-like-the-sibling-you-never-had fallen off the planet or something? What will it take for them to respond to your texts/phone calls/emails/smoke signals? What makes this even more annoying is that the shitheel whom you thought you'd gotten rid of for good is now texting or sending bat signals to you. Gross.
If you have a pet, he or she may be regressing or withdrawing without warning or reason, and guess what? You can't reason with Rex or Tigger-Boo, and unless you are a pet whisperer, you won't know what is causing this strange behavior. You can certainly consult a vet, but remember: repeat lab tests apply as much to your fur-babies as they do to yourself.
Chances are good that at least one electronic device you own will spaz out, become infected with malware, or simply break. And the new smartphone/laptop/iWhatever you purchase will have something wrong with it. Even your blender or toaster may start speaking in tongues.
So, you really think you know where you're going, either literally or metaphorically? You don't need a map 'cause you got mad GPS? Call me when you get hopelessly lost in the wrong part of town or forget your own name so that I can laugh my ass off.
You may lose things other than yourself, especially keys, important documents, rings, gloves, and friends. With the exception of that last example, consider duct taping them to your person, or just lock them in a vault till 2/11.
Have I mentioned yet that nothing will be resolved during these three weeks?
On the plus side, this is an excellent time to catch up (aka binge-view) a TV/cable/Netflix show or three...especially if the weather sucks (as it probably will in a good chunk of the U.S. -- after all, it's mid-winter and we've officially wrecked the weather), you come down with a nasty bug or flu (as you might even if you got the flu shot), or you twist your ankle or pinch a nerve to the extent that you're couch-ridden.
Now pour into a cocktail shaker this kooky elixir known as Mercury Retrograde, shake, pour into a tall frosty glass, add a cherry and a little umbrella, and spill it all over your charmingly eccentric outfit before you get to take even one sip.
