My bff the Harmonious One feels very strongly that my uber Virgo-osity is in a tizz because Mercury (my momma planet) is playing dirty tricks with the cosmos. According to the natal chart she once did on my behalf, I am apparently some freakish mega-Virgo, which is kind of like almost being a Crowleyan Moonchild, except I'm all juiced up on Mercury. (Not like Emporer Chin was juiced up on mercury. I'm talking planet power, people.)
Now, I'm not inclined to believe that astrological phenomena dictate my earthly business, however, it does provide me with a peachy keen excuse for everything that goes awry. I have an ex-boyfriend to thank for this marvelously magical poetic device. True story: I was seventeen. He was twenty-one. One day he called me up and told me he was breaking up with me. Naturally curious as to what his reasons were, I asked him why, to which he responded, "Mercury is retrograde."
Henceforth, it has been my best friend three, sometimes four times a year.
It's true. I have come to celebrate Momma Mercury's tri-annual backwards dance, because in dropping the M-bomb I am celestially absolved from all kinds of wrongs. Huzzah. Plus, I get to start drinking before 10 am. Why? Because Mercury's retrograde, bitches!
So thank you, gothic boyfriend, for that gift that keeps on giving.
Happy Mercury Retrograde everyone!
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