You will be caught in the greatest existential dilemma of your life when you are unable to decide if a table or radial arm saw is better for your home shop.
Get back to the basics of family this week. Have your mother feed, bathe, and change you.
Your insurance company insists that it has no obligation to insure you as long as you’re still frozen in that block of ice.
You will unify the disparate fields of semiotics, mathematics, and behaviorism when you prove that, if our ifs and buts were all candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas.
Avoid making any major business decisions this week, as you’ll spend most of it out of your mind on vodka sours.
You’ll be terrified next Monday when it seems that the sky is falling, but it’s merely the tail end of the Leonid meteor showers. Then comes Thursday.
There are no blemishes on your kind, compassionate Virgo soul, but that’s more than offset by the ones on your face, hands, and renal system.
You will be profoundly moved by your experiences in the next few days, but that could mean a whole lot of things.
The great Lions quarterback Bobby Layne will appear to you in a dream and explain why you don’t deserve to have Bobby Layne appear to you in a dream.
Your religion was almost right: Those you vanquished in life are waiting for you in death, but not to serve you.
You will turn in one of the most heroic and selfless performances of your career next Thursday, but since you’re an architect, the details are pretty boring.
Your wife, like your jailers before her, still refuses to allow you to have belts or sharp-edged culinary utensils.
