Weather Report

Reddish-pink and spotty black swirls appeared. I wasn’t in some dark constellation. Slowly becoming awake, I laid in bed with my eyes closed. The sun was just beginning to rise.

“Time to get up,” I thought, in disbelief.

My sheets were a little damp, only because I had cracked the bedroom window open too much and the temperature had dipped a lot overnight. It was sweat. The heat my body gives off on cold nights could impress a hibernating bear.

A whirring sound shot from downstairs.

“Mm, coffee,” I muttered to myself. It was the coffee grinder. I was especially sensitive this morning—a Pisces kind of day, supposedly. As inviting as it was, that space between my ears and head had clenched. Both my ear canals were literally canals, and being flooded.

My wife was the source of the sound—it wasn’t her fault.

“Rise and shine, love,” she softly announced.

Her voice floated up. I heard her faintly. She’s always up earlier than me, sometimes as early as 3:00 a.m. She was probably doing her yoga videos.

It also smelled as if breakfast was made. An aroma of sizzling bacon and sweet caramelized onions had followed the noise, away from my ears and into my nose. During this moment, she was definitely energetic, and definitely up, but way too exciting for my Pisces self. Yet she’s a Scorpio.

After a pathetic struggle to rise, I arrived downstairs, finally.

There she was, smiling, plating the breakfast almost as I had imagined, with poached eggs and a hollandaise sauce. The muffin would have been too much.

I forced myself to communicate.

“Maybe I’ve been transitioning, honey.”

“Into Aries? Yeah, right.”

I sighed.

“Being born on the cusp means I’m either Aquarius or Pisces, not Aries.”

She smiled.

“You should get into it anyway! It’s ancient science like magic.”

Absorbing what she said, as only a Pisces apparently would, I watched my Scorpio prepare the French press.

Randomly, I stated as a fact, “Magic’s nice as long as it’s harmless.”

We then steeped in our own silence as the batch of coffee became ready. As awake as she was, she apparently wanted coffee. I needed to function.

I then walked out of the kitchen towards the living room, finding the remote on my way, and then turned on the TV to check the weather.

“We have all these ‘apps’ now, but it’s nice to just watch the forecast still.”

She didn’t hear me.

The weekly segment came on and each day was presented. Monday, today—rain (although it was clearly sunny). Tuesday? 50% not rain. Wednesday? 50% either rain or not rain. Thursday? 50% whatever. Friday? Is it Friday yet? It’s obviously chance.

“You know the weather is like horoscopes, dear.”

“What’s that?”

I heard her pouring coffee and she then approached me.

“Have this cup.”

We sat down together. I turned the TV off. We sipped. From the only window nearby, a wide scope of light began bursting onto my face and I then took a big gulp.

“Honestly, I’m feeling energetic now.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely progressing into Aries now.”

My eyes rolled.

“I think maybe I’m the same person, but I had some coffee.”

She winked at me and had another sip.

“Husband, you’re a lot of signs sometimes, but you’re still my husband.”

Astrology is a lot like weather. Some of us are born on the cusp. Some of us are born on opposite ends. Science has indicated there are 13 “signs” rather than 12. And more modern astrologers present additional layers of analysis that accompany “natal” and “progressive” charts. Apparently, knowing not only the hour you were born, but the very minute also, matters. Some astrologers also believe we change signs at least two times in our lifetime.

Personally, astrology has grouped ourselves to reconcile our human selves between the cosmos. As scientific as I believe it’s not, the stars, in a relationship with ourselves, are an incredible fascination.

The coffee kicked in.

“Honey, I’ve got a great day ahead of me.”

“Ooh! Sagittarius!”

Maybe she was mocking me?

I mocked her.

“What? Oh—I’m optimistic now. I’ve—bleep-bloop-blip, under new coordinates.”

Her eyes rolled hard.

She looked at me warmly, and with intent.

“I’m glad we’re friendly like Aquarius, humorous like Capricorn, easygoing like Libra, intelligent like Virgo, warmhearted like Leo, loving like Cancer, communicative like Gemini, and loving like Taurus, and wait, is there another one?”

I took another big gulp.

“You said loving, twice.”

She smirked.

“It would be unbelievable if no sign could ever be positive. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

We then finished our breakfast. We left some coffee in our cups as usual, since we always pour too much. The weather called for chance and the sun kept beaming. And our conversation found itself in astrology again. Because in astrology, I guess, the forecast is predictable. While rain might have supposed to happen, any horoscope can suggest a good day.