This week has provided me with my opportunity to jump ship and I am taking it. I quit Taurus.

As you may have heard, earlier this week an astronomer announced that the signs of the Zodiac have changed over thousands of years, thanks to a wobble in the earth’s axis. As soon as it was posted, the Internet exploded.

On Facebook, the statuses run the gamut of human emotion.

Despondence:

“Nooooo, I don’t wanna be a Taurus! Anything but that!”

Defiance:

“They can’t make me switch to Capricorn!”

Elation:

“Yay! I’m still a unique Aquarius, and now I’m even more unique because there are less of us!”

Epiphany:

“Leo, huh? That explains some things.”

Regret:

“Shouldn’t have gotten that Scorpio tattoo.”

Confusion:

“OMG! I’m an Ophiuchus now? WTF?”

There were helpful people who attempted to use the Zodiac news as a teachable moment:

“Guys, this just proves that astrology is crap. God. You’re all so dumb.”

And other helpful people who’d taken a minute to do a Google search in order to allay our fears:

“This only applies to people born after 2009. So calm down, you don’t have to be a Taurus.”

I don’t get that last one. It probably took a long time for the Earth to change its orientation, so the Zodiac has probably been off-kilter for a while. But whatever. As someone who spent a lot of time in my 20s figuring out horoscopes and deciphering signs, I actually find the “change” freeing. I like the idea that we can pick and choose our signs. I can choose to be a Taurus, or I can decide to be something I like much better: Aries.

Unlike most of the above Facebook users, I’ve never really been attached to my sign. As a little kid I remember being appalled that my sign was the sign of the bull. Taurus.  Known for being the plodding, patient type who gets ahead through perseverance. Likes material things. Is stolid. Ugh. Stolid. What a word. I’ve read write-up after write-up on Taurus and, though I hoped to discover some of Taurus’s better traits in my own personality, I’ve failed to see myself in the sign. Not even the modifying factors of my rising and moon signs could make Taurus fit me. Taurus is good with money. I am not. Taurus is patient. I am not. Taurus can be dull. I should hope that I am not. I’ve exactly got two things in common with Taurus: I get a lot of sore throats and I have expensive taste. That’s it.

So I’m all too happy to leap on over to Aries, which corresponds much better with my personality. The ram. Needs to be number one. Likes to talk. Has a temper. Easily bored. Likes red. Wants to be the leader. That’s me!

So regardless of what the astrologers say and despite the fact that I spent a long time trying to champion the sign, I’m quitting Taurus. (Let the “tired of the same old bull” jokes commence.) From now on, I’m telling people that I’m an Aries. I’m reading the Aries horoscope. I’m going to (somehow) calculate my astrological chart as an Aries.

I’ll probably hold off on any ram tattoos, though.