Me Me Me

I believe in the basic truth of the zodiac — at least for the signs I know, which are those of my immediate family. I know nothing of Cancer or Aries or Leo or Aquarius. But Taurus, the sign of my late mother, the amazing Mary, and my adorable son? Whoa! There’s power in the bull! Scorpio, the sign of my darling husband? Who knows what that strong-willed man is ever really thinking? My precious daughter, a Pisces? A sensitive and loving fish indeed. Most of all, I believe in the basic truth of Virgo, my birth sign.

Oh lordy, Virgos are so special. And we know it, even if we try to avoid flaunting it. (Virgos don’t toot our own horns, except in our minds, and now in this blog.) We can’t help our perfection — and we can’t help feeling impatient at the relative slowness of people unfortunate enough to be born under the other 11 signs. If only the world were ruled by Virgos — but which of us could possibly be in charge of all the others?! Actually, if Virgos ruled the world, there would be no need for a hierarchy. Each Virgo would do his or her job (perfectly) with no status meetings or memos or reminders needed. Done! Finished! Next?!

I admit that there are negative aspects to our glorious sign. As I said, Virgos are impatient. We are judgmental. We are a teensy bit anal. (Okay, more than a teensy bit.) We are more “by the book” and less “outside the box.” We care too much about what other people think. Sometimes, but not very often, we wish we could let loose and get a little crazy. But the fact is: We are Virgos. We are fabulous. Happy birthday to us!