ASTRAL (APOLOGY) ANNOUNCEMENT

When It Rains Cosmic Chaos… (Sorry, Not Sorry?)

Astrology, my dear celestial wayfarers, is not a gentle drip from a leaky faucet…

It does not arrive in neat, evenly spaced doses, like a well-behaved news cycle or the mailman who refuses to deliver your tax return on time. No—astrology moves like weather, and sometimes, the universe slams down a storm warning while simultaneously dumping a celestial tsunami into your inbox.

Because when it rains? Oh, honey—it pours planetary pandemonium.

One week, the skies are lounging in a cosmic hammock, humming something lazy and contented, letting us all breathe for a hot minute. And then, without so much as a “brace yourself”, the planets stampede into a riot of aspects—squares barking orders, oppositions locking horns, retrogrades yanking the rug out like a mischief-loving poltergeist. It’s drama at the highest altitude.

And that’s when the inbox floods.

Because the nature of planetary movement is not a well-regulated sprinkler system—it’s a chaotic symphony of cycles, rhythms, and sudden, urgent crescendos. And when those crescendos hit, my job (or cosmic obligation, depending on how you see it) is to warn you before you find yourself knee-deep in existential quicksand, wondering why your ex just reappeared with a cryptic text or why your perfectly laid-out plans suddenly resemble an abstract painting done by a caffeinated raccoon.

So, am I sorry for the occasional cosmic downpour of emails?

Not exactly.

Because when Pluto decides to stir the underworld, or when Jupiter blows up your carefully constructed illusions like an overfilled balloon, you’d rather know than not know, right?

But let’s make a deal.

When the skies are still, I’ll leave you to sip your coffee in peace. When the planets go off like an astrological fireworks display, expect a little extra cosmic correspondence—because some storms you can dance in, and others, well… you might want an umbrella.

And if it ever feels like too much? Just remember: the universe doesn’t do subtle.

Neither do I.

Stay dry, or dive in—either way, the cosmos keeps moving. Thanks for subscribing, XO JJ