What a bitch of a month it’s been. Not to sound like a pick-me girlie, but I normally really enjoy a Mercury retrograde. Our lives are thrown into chaos and when it’s done, we get to see where the pieces lie. It’s kind of like trying to untangle a necklace by furiously twisting it between your fingers — it never works, but the very process of it usually helps undo a knot or two.
This Mercury was something else. I have cried on the bus, in a hotel room while on holiday, in the cinema and in my own bed. I nearly shouted at a baby. I actively shouted at an adult man; he was trying to steal my phone, but still. This kind of behaviour actually isn’t out of the ordinary for me on an average month but it all happened within the span of three days, so I finally had to admit that something was up. Retrograde is twisting us between its fingers and the knots just won’t come out.
