I don't know whether you believe in astrology. It seems to be becoming a bit of an obsolete mania - or maybe I am just mixing with the wrong star signs.
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Anyway, the full horror of my horoscope came rushing at me at 6.30 this morning.
I am an Aquarian, like my mother before me and my daughter after me. Three generations. Lucky world.
We all seem to display the classic traits of that one-twelfth of society - we are geniuses, we are unpredictable and we think the rules don't apply to us. That's if you believe the internet.
My weekend was spent working on my genius ideas alongside my daughter, who was also working on her genius ideas. What we weren't doing was housework, homework and practical planning for the week ahead.
Hence, I woke barely able to move from a workout I was too stubborn to admit I was not up to, with my Aries husband snoring beside me and my child still where she had fallen asleep on the couch the night before.
"Oh," my bull-in-a-china-shop Aries woke up and said, "I've got some good news. Jackie is coming."
I lay and digested this good news. He had no further information about when, for how long or why.
I had six important deadlines I was already scheduling and rescheduling in my head. From where I lay I could see a large pile of unwashed clothes, mounds of something with sharp edges under the television and, through the door, flotsam and jetsam all over the lounge - including our child.
We had played host to a dust storm on the weekend and aside from the general upheaval, everything had been painstakingly coated in orange.
I got up, thinking about shoehorning the most desperate housework duties into my already impossible day.
I had been trying to teach my child a lesson about responsibility, piling the dirty dishes as high as I could in protest to her refusal to unload the dishwasher. Behind the tower was the compost bucket, full to the brim and composting itself due to our unwillingness to find a new compost location.
I opened the cupboard under the sink. The mousetrap had finally yielded success. The mouse had not gone gentle into that good night. There was a mess to clean up.
The week had begun.
You tell me, is astrology real? I'm not saying I have no free will in the way I live my life. That wouldn't be the Aquarian way.
We hate adhering to conventions.
Just that, well, life might be easier if I was a Virgo. Or at least life might be a bit tidier.
Marie Low is a freelance journalist based in Gunnedah, NSW.
