Let me start off by saying that this piece was entirely conceived out of a deadline, but the fact that I'm even following a deadline is the best example of Virgo energy rushing through my veins. I realized I signed up to submit something by tomorrow at 6 p.m. went, “Oh, expletive” and flipped through some relevant go-to ideas. I could give advice to first-year students, but I’m in no state to be telling anybody what to do, and I’ve always been a fan of figuring it out as you go anyways. I could complain about corporate America promoting fall-centric products while I’m still sporting tank tops regularly, but I need to leave something for the straight men in our staff to complain about. My first ever article was about horoscopes, and nobody but my father said anything to my face about that, so I’m continuing my astrology fanaticism with a discussion on Virgo season. For me, Virgo season is astrology’s selling point. I always feel some type of way when late August hits. I’ll acknowledge a few other potential variables for this since some of you are “skeptical” (a.k.a. you hate fun). School starts, and although I’ve gotten lazier over the years, the anxious beast that lives inside me encourages me to organize at least a little bit. The weather cools down just enough to where I can do more than lay in a puddle of sweat on my bed — we’ll see if this is still true in five years — we love global warming! Also, at this point, though it still may be hot out, the concept of summer is over. I’m legally obligated to scroll past moodboards on my Tumblr dashboard that feature fields, flowers and fireworks. I move to using bullet points and enter intense Reddit discussions on the best quality brooms. Whether or not you believe the solar system has any effect on us, here are three distinct things I do that mark this specific time of year as unusual: Buy a planner I’ve never been someone who needs an agenda to function. When I say function, I am of course referring to basic survival mechanisms, along with turning in most of my assignments on time. Usually, I hesitate to associate with religious planner users. There has to be something wrong if you document your every action. Like, have you ever tried changing up your routine? If a friend calls you up to hang out that very instant, do you have to decline because they didn’t give a two weeks’ notice? The rude version of this question, of course, is asking if these people even have friends. However, when Virgo season comes around, I start to wonder if the agenda-users know what’s up. I head down to the bookstore and look through the pickings. My perfect planner fits in my aesthetic, bag and budget. Once I buy my planner, I scroll through my syllabi and begin entering all the paper and exam due dates. Every class, I handle my planner with care, using a precise color-coded system to differentiate between types of assignments. When I start my work, I open my planner and glide my finger along each word I’ve written for the day’s entry, soaking in exactly what I need to accomplish before the next day, perhaps even getting ahead. After finishing a reading or a write-up, I pause to place a checkmark next to its respective entry in my planner, and re-assess everything that I have to do. All of this happens … for the first few weeks. By mid-October my planner sits at the bottom of my backpack, joined by broken pens and empty juulpods. In mid-November, I use the planner again, once, when I forget to bring the correct notebook to class and rip out a random week to use for note taking that day. And when finals season rolls around, well, the planner is nowhere to be found, and I have to go through all my syllabi again to remember when the things that make up eighty percent of my grade are due. Year after year, I endure this order of events, but I can’t stop buying planners. 2. Be ahead of schedule Only during Virgo season can I actually be on time. The night before I have to be somewhere, I put together an outfit rather than deciding to show up in the sweats I wore during the night and the t-shirt at the top of my laundry pile. I prep my meals, perhaps making myself a pasta salad or black bean tacos — nothing too fancy, Virgo season is powerful, but no revolving planet could make me Gordon Ramsay. Whatever I eat, it’s certainly better than grabbing a bag of chips on my way out the door. Some mornings, I even make my bed. People that always make their beds, like planner users, have unspoken issues. I don’t see the point in making my bed every morning if I’m sleeping in it that same night. Those that argue against this by saying, “Do you wipe after taking a dump if you’re inevitably going to take a dump again?” are, simply put, morons. Just because I use my bed doesn’t mean I won’t continue to invest in personal basic hygiene. In fact, I trust people with messy beds to clean up down there more than those with an always perfect bed. But during Virgo season, I see the appeal. A made bed is the perfect mask for life. I could have given a professor the completely wrong answer in the middle of discussion, lost ten Twitter followers for saying something accidentally problematic and noticed a couple gray strands of hair, but if I see that made bed when I walk in the door, I feel like Bruno Mars after winning Album of the Year for “24k Magic” — giddily delusional. 3. Go to class fully sober You know, I wish I had a defense for this one … but it is what it is! Sydney Branham is a Humor Columnist at The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.