Come on Saturn, do your worst

Ten days to go. That's when my life is going to change, 'tis writ large in the stars.

I don't usually read horoscopes, they're for girls. That's why you never find them in GQ. But one Sunday I stumbled upon my stars at the back of the Telegraph magazine and that's when I saw it.

You might call it a tip-off, I call it a worry. On October 29 Saturn, the ruler I never knew I had, moves into a new sign. This is the first time this will have happened in two years.

Without getting into the technicalities of how an entire planet moves into a new sign, this has concerned me. No one likes change, and the way this has been communicated by not one but two national newspaper astrologers feels somewhat ominous.

"What seems ideal now could be an obstacle then," muses Shelley von Strunckel in the Sunday Times. If what seems ideal Shelley? Spell it out for crying out loud and put me out of my misery.

And what do you mean by "change is in the air?" I know change is in the air. The clocks will be going back, isn't that change enough?

On the bright side this could mean I will win the lottery, get a phone call telling me a long lost aunt has left me a fortune, dig up some Saxon treasure in the garden.

All highly unlikely. Change these days doesn't seem to bring much in the way of anything good, in my experience. And now, thanks to those stargazers, I have another ten days of anxiety just waiting to see what doom awaits me.

That's the last time I read past the restaurant review in a Sunday magazine.

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