I know so little. Incredibly little I’m afraid. But I do know this.  My instincts have never served me as well as they should have. It’s almost as though they’ve been trying to trick me into getting lost and fat and broke.  Why else would they tell me to ignore my navigation system which reports directly from twenty-four earth orbiting satellites, and rely instead on my gut, which is ruled by no understanding whatsoever of how roads work?

They’ve even gone so far as to cause me to fall down, in public, as my instincts rarely even bother to tell me to look where I’m going or to buy shoes that were designed for human feet to move about in (but you already know that). And clearly they never fed me properly. Most people have this little shut off valve that tells them to stop eating when they begin to feel sick, or not to eat something that fell on the floor.

Not me though.

My instincts are not something anyone should ever listen to.  In fact, if they tell you to do something, do the exact opposite. That’s what I tell my children.

Lately they’ve been getting worse. Not my children.  My kids are perfect because they never listen to me.  It’s my instincts that are getting worse. Instead of finally leading me down a path of virtuous self-discipline carved by the wisdom of the many years I’ve spent finding my way in the world, I had cookies for dinner last night.

  That’s right.  I counted them out, calorie wise and had a plate of cookies.  Who would do that?

No one I know.

That’s why I’ve decided to give up on my instincts altogether.  For now on, I’m going to rely solely on astrology for absolutely everything.  At least for a while anyway.  I already started by going to Barnes & Noble last night to stock up on all sorts of magazines and newspapers so I can read my horoscope in a variety of fonts. (My mother knows this is true because I called her from the B&N bathroom to say hi). I believe this mass gathering of information will enable me to make much better decisions than the ones I’ve made up until today.  So far I bought Vogue and Pools.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with Pools magazine, it’s about all different kinds of pools, most of which look incredibly dangerous. Large boulders are often involved, which are placed precariously just along the edge of the pool to create the illusion that one’s suburban backyard is oddly enough a quarry. Unfortunately Pools doesn’t have an astrology page. And I haven’t actually gotten to the astrology section of Vogue yet either, as I am still leafing through the eight hundred or so pages of ads.  At this point the only thing I’ve come away with is that I need a scary looking pool very badly, and it’s probably in everyone’s best interest to purchase a pair of booties as soon as possible. I have a hunch they’re very comfortable and will remain in style for many years to come.