Irregular Horoscopes: Your Personal Warning Label

The stars have spent thousands of years offering guidance, encouragement, and vague assurances about journeys. This week they have retained legal counsel, dissolved the zodiac, and begun issuing warning labels. Every sign now comes with a warning intended to protect friends, relatives, coworkers, household appliances, and any moon that wanders too close.

Aries (March 21–April 19)
May begin arguments before determining whether an argument exists.
You will encounter someone this week who agrees with you. Listen carefully. Beneath the agreement, a small red door will open in the wall. Behind it is the argument you were hoping for, wearing your face and carrying a ceremonial sword. Do not ask what the sword is for.

Taurus (April 20–May 20)
Do not attempt to reposition. Unit has selected this chair.
Someone will suggest a small change to your routine. Remain calm. The authorities have been notified, the furniture has formed a defensive perimeter, and your chair has begun producing a low, ancestral hum. If forced to move, leave behind a decoy made of blankets and unresolved grudges.

Gemini (May 21–June 20)
Contents may differ substantially from conversation held yesterday.
An opinion you expressed with considerable conviction on Tuesday will become inconvenient by Thursday. Fortunately, you will have no memory of expressing it. Unfortunately, the opinion will remember you. It will follow you through three rooms, a parking lot, and one dream in which everyone is a staircase.

Cancer (June 21–July 22)
Caution: Retains emotional receipts indefinitely.
Someone who mildly disappointed you in 2019 will wander across your thoughts this week. You have forgiven this person completely, except for remembering the date, time, weather, exact conversation, shirt, dental work, and the brief appearance of a crow that seemed to understand everything. The crow has not apologized.

Leo (July 23–August 22)
For best results, position where others can see it.
You will perform an act of quiet generosity and tell almost nobody about it. “Almost” will include six friends, two coworkers, a cashier, someone waiting beside you for the light to change, and a passing comet that has been waiting for a good story. By Friday, the comet will be telling strangers.

Virgo (August 23–September 22)
Opening package may result in unsolicited improvements to your technique.
Someone will perform a simple task incorrectly in your presence. You will attempt to remain silent. Medical attention should be sought if this condition persists for more than four minutes, or if the room begins filling with diagrams. By midnight, you will have redesigned the task, the room, and the concept of “simple.”

Libra (September 23–October 22)
Decision regarding this warning label still pending.
Two equally attractive possibilities will present themselves. By Friday, you will have carefully eliminated neither of them while discovering a third possibility that makes everything worse. On Saturday, all three will merge into a single enormous question mark and ask you to choose a side. You will request more information. The question mark will respect this.

Scorpio (October 23–November 21)
Do not confuse silence with lack of activity.
Someone will ask whether something is bothering you. Say “nothing.” This will give you additional time to complete the investigation. Somewhere beneath the house, a file will open. Somewhere above the house, a satellite will blink twice. You will learn the truth, but only after everyone has gone home and the truth has changed its name.

Sagittarius (November 22–December 21)
May leave premises without completing story, relationship, or bar tab.
A sudden desire for adventure will strike around Wednesday. Check whether you already promised somebody you would be somewhere Wednesday before boarding anything requiring identification. If the vehicle is shaped like a question, do not board it. If it is shaped like an answer, board immediately and bring snacks.

Capricorn (December 22–January 19)
Not intended for recreational use.
You will be invited to relax this weekend. Ask for an agenda, estimated duration, definition of “relax,” and whether relaxation has been approved by the relevant committee. If satisfactory answers are not provided, return to reorganizing something nobody else knew required organization. At 2:13 a.m., the organized objects will rise and thank you in a language made entirely of hinges.

Aquarius (January 20–February 18)
Manufacturer accepts no responsibility for opinions expressed after 11:00 p.m.
A perfectly ordinary conversation will remind you of a theory you have been developing about grocery stores, organized religion, artificial intelligence, squirrels, or the possibility that all spoons are listening. Your companions have nowhere to go. Proceed. At some point, the lights will dim, the refrigerator will applaud, and everyone will understand that you were right about one thing but not the thing you think.

Pisces (February 19–March 20)
Reality sold separately.
You will spend several productive hours imagining a conversation that will never occur with someone who has no idea the two of you are having difficulties. By Sunday, everything will be resolved. Unfortunately, only you will know this, and the other person will have been replaced by a weather system that has your childhood voice.

Bonus: The stars recommend carrying water, a spare identity, and one object that does not belong to you.

The full library of cosmic misfires and zodiac malpractice is yours just by clicking here—a link the Surgeon General has not yet condemned.