This week you will be asked to participate in something enormously outside of your comfort zone, Virgo. Your husband will ask you very politely if you can please be in his music video. A music video that begins filming in three days. The role is a dancer—you know, someone who moves their body with purpose, elegance, intention, etc. You have never done any of those things with your body, Virgo.
Beyond just being absolutely incapable of physical intrigue, you avoid dancing at all costs. There is nothing that petrifies you more than finding yourself in a social situation where dancing is unavoidable. For any skeptics who are certain there could not possibly be a situation where dancing is impossible to avoid, the skies implore you to attend more weddings.
There is no sound more frightening than the shriek of a wedding guest, demanding everyone in earshot join them on the dance floor. If dancing at weddings is such an irresistible, riotous experience, why is every dance floor participant wholly consumed with forcing everyone else to join them? Why must everyone Not Dancing participate in The Dancing for it to be enjoyable for the people Already Dancing?
If anyone sees Virgo at a wedding, please respect her very conscious choice to stay out of the dance zone and let her enjoy her free dinner and the bevy of cool aunts she’d like to meet in peace.
Despite your fears of dancing, you agree—and accept the role of a dancer in a music video.
You are assured that the role will be “easy.” Your husband is a lovely man, Virgo—but under no circumstance are you to trust his calibration of what is “easy.” You’ve been here before—he pokes his head into whichever room you are doing a puzzle or watching Survivor, to ask you if you can please record some “simple” background vocals on his songs.
In addition to not being a dancer, you are also not a singer. The amount of times he says “just” prior to asking you to do something you deem entirely impossible with your voice (harmony, consistently singing the same note, making any noise on purpose, etc.) is innumerable.
To be clear: this is a two way street—you both help each other out with your individual projects every day. He edits everything you write, and though you haven’t asked him yet, you are relying heavily on his help for a spaghetti eating video project later this week (I know this sounds like a joke or a reference or something but this is actually what Virgo does with her one precious life). You’re always helping each other with projects, it’s just that every project he does is solely composed of tasks that mortify you.
You’ll need to travel upstate to stay in the woods for this trip—another detail that challenges you. Bears and dancing are pretty much tied for first in the category of Things You Hope You Do Not Encounter. Since you’ve never educated yourself about where bears actually live, you just assume that if there are a couple of trees around that there must also be dozens of conniving bears with bloodlust.
When the first day of the shoot begins, your husband reminds you that this dancing will be “easy.” An enormously patient choreographer has agreed to teach you how to move your body in a way that could potentially (with editing) look a little like a human dance. The choreography requires spinning on a hillside in platform shoes for approximately nine hundred thousand hours.
You never knew it was possible to be bad at spinning, but you will come to learn that it is possible—and you are.
The creators of the music video are very nice to you about your spinning failures, and change the concept of the music video to accommodate your inabilities. They first change the dancing into running. You run religiously for one week every five years, so you mistakenly believe this shouldn’t be a problem for you. It is—back to the drawing board.
Instead they have you artfully gesture atop a large rock. This too, is beyond your abilities. They accommodate and accommodate desperately seeking a scenario where your talents can emerge.
Genius finally strikes when it is decided you should lay down on the ground, splayed out like a dead carcass. This is where you shine! They take a few excellent shots of you looking absolutely deceased on the ground. Your on screen lifelessness finally has a purpose! You swell with the pride of a job well done.
You don’t have the exact numbers, but you’re pretty sure if a dancer would have been hired instead of you, this shoot would have taken 625,000 fewer hours. You owe every crew member a thank you card and a million dollars for their patience whilst you tried and failed to be visually interesting in motion.
Despite actually being afraid of everything, the skies are pleased that you do not seem to let this affect your choices too much. You are afraid of dancing, of bears, of the woods, and of the teenagers that were staying at the same retreat who were always in the shared bathrooms for some reason. Keep conquering your fears, Virgo—even if it means the messy, humiliating process will be carefully recorded and distributed for the world to see.