Sign of the Times

There are few things in my life of which I’ve been absolutely sure. That I was born outside the United States (which quelled my presidential ambitions very early), that each day the sun will rise and set, and that I am a Pisces. That is until today. For some reason someone—probably the same brains that demoted Pluto from being a planet—has come up with a new astrological calendar attributing new dates to old signs, and adding one for the hell of it. Well, I’m not going to take it. The earth may be round, we may revolve around the sun, but I will remain forever emotional, dreamy, an artist, with sensitive feet. Cause if I can’t remain a dual water loving fish, I’m worried what will come next if suddenly I am Aquarius, joining the tea party?