I’d Better Get Off My Keister

My horoscope (which I believe to be on par with my fortunes in fortune cookies and “kissability reader” games with those light bulbs that somehow figure out you’re “hot stuff” just because you put a token in and your palm on the “reader”) said, “A stern taskmaster insists you get up off the couch, metaphorically, and prove your worth.”

It also says my day will be a “7” out of 10.

How those two blend together is beyond me. I mean, I can’t imagine a scenario in which I’d run into a stern taskmaster, and even if I did and they had the authority to demand better performance, then my day certainly wouldn’t be a 7.

But I’ll mow the lawn just to be sure…