March Horoscopes

By Julia Harrison
Staff Writer

Kiss one more Pisces, I dare you.

Oof. Tough month. Probably high time to stop drinking alone—instead, reevaluate your relationship with Maggie Rogers and join a club team. There is always time to renew.

You’ve done everything but fold their damn socks! Wake up to the reality of your romantic situation before your soft pretzel of a heart falls apart and the crows come after it. Refocus your energy on some sort of wild passion project—yodeling, DIY ziplining, inventing a flaming jacket (like, as in one that’s constantly on fire).

The horoscope I am stealing from makes a good point—you love to be a martyr, if not for a situation, then for your feelings, but that’s manifesting itself in some unhinged weekends for you. As in: you are either having a bad time or you did something bad. I recommend: Epsom salt, breaking up.

A lethargic month ahead for you, Sagittarius, and god bless. You need Echinacea tea and a hobby and to watch Fleabag to see where your life is potentially headed if you keep up your regular indulgence.

Aquarius says to clarify your “soul mission” this month, which for you probably means finding some hot slice to love distantly and bully permanently. Wishing you all the best; wishing thick skin to the Virgo you’re after.

Expect more absurd developments in your life and little rest upon your feather bed of citations. 

Please keep your ketamine and feelings and Spotify playlists to yourself, I am tired!!!

Maybe you are reading too much Sartre these days but you’ve made some big strides this past month in evaluating that life is chaos and everything is fictionalized and reality is a hoax, etc., all kinds of things that Philosophy minors are always bringing up to you in low-lit settings. Ride this wave until you tire yourself out on chaos and want to re-establish order in your life. But for right now, live it up.

You have to stop watching television and do something. It doesn’t even need to be interesting, you can just lie face down outside. Learn the lyrics to that super sad Bruce Springsteen album we all dance to mindlessly and realize the gravity of in a pair of hot pants at Phi on a wet Friday evening. Or something. 

February was one long butt-clench for you and it’s time to release. Things always get a lot more interesting when you are less controlling. Crack a Bud Light, lounge, let go.

Stop telling people you’re a Hufflepuff! It is grossing everyone out! And very negatively affecting your sex life!