02/18/2026
I learned that this was a “cataclysmic” and “transformative” moment for Aquarians. The most I know of astrology is that, of those, I am one. And my friends with more acumen for the science of the stars all prepped me for what was to come and told me, “life for you will never be the same after this.”
Are you sh****ng me? No, thank you.
We’re all just helpless beings on this boulder floating in infinite space and if there’s order to it and the order insists I’m going to get a life overhaul, I guess I can only prepare like we do for all the other landscape altering storms: buy the mega pack of toilet paper.
Since the eclipse, I haven’t slept much. My mind is doing a “remember when” greatest hits, playing back for me all the moments I wish I could take back, completely prevent, or just flat out redo. Like hangover anxiety but on steroids.
I’ve set off the smoke alarms in my house every day. Cooking a frozen pizza, lighting a candle, making grilled cheeses. We lived in Janet Reno’s Branch Dividian Raid for 20 minutes a day, trying to ride out the ringing and sirens and “fire” announcements while we waited for DiGiorno.
The stack of bills that had been taunting me for a week finally got my attention and I couldn’t help but think as I looked at bill upon bill, “this wasn’t the future I was promised.”
Growing up Gen X we had a pretty solid assurance that working hard, buying a home, and investing right would mean we could all live like an episode of Growing Pains and hard life experiences would be purely situational and solved with a family talk and a theme song cuing the resolution.
But, crap. I wasn’t prepared for the “Great Recession,” global pandemic, mass shooter future I seem to have arrived at.
Bills will always be a bitchy albatross cherry on the unrelenting life post-911 sundae for me.
The eclipse seems to have made me wade a bit in the raw deal lake. And maybe I’ve stayed there too long. But I know, in this lake it’s either walk out or pull an Edmond Fitzgerald.
So far?
The result of the eclipse is: pick up some NyQuil, get the pizza delivered, and don’t drown in the woe is me waters. Float until you’re ready to get out.