I Will Survive
Times are tough for independent astrologers. The conglomerates are taking over, and what work remains has been largely outsourced. This cutthroat environment is not conducive to productive prognostication at all. In these circumstances, a scattershot approach is most effective. It's a percentage game.

Perhaps unaware of the Kafkaesque precedent, you'll transmogrify into a Bianchi - one of the lower specced models, to add insult to injury. Family and friends will be understanding; coworkers less so, until you offer free rides and adjust your saddle. If the colour doesn't suit, consider a professional respray. Lucky numbers: 11, 42, 168

The proportional theory of crank length combined with the transit of Venus helps explain the trajectory of your love life. Spend little and often to avoid ulcers. Due to financial constraints Gore-Tex is not an option this year. Ride naked and free the way God intended. Pleasing gear ratios offer reassurance, and hope. Lucky numbers: all irrational integers

In a surprise last-minute decision the Tour de France will be rerouted through your neighborhood, and local cyclists are encouraged to ride a stage to keep the pros sharp. Unfortunately you'll be away that day. Thriftiness is an admirable quality; nevertheless, a bungee cord is not a suitable replacement for a well-designed child carrier. Your mother was right about many things but the cheap innuendo was uncalled for. Lucky number: anything with a '0' in it

A crisis of faith at the World Trackstand Championships in Helsinki leads you to re-evaluate your goals in life. It transpires that riding a fixed is not necessarily character-building. Don't try to reinvent the wheel, or if you do, get a good patent attorney. Refrain from adding an apostrophe to 'its' unless you mean 'it is'. Paranoia remains an option. No lucky numbers

Whilst attempting to freewheel on your unicycle you'll experience an epiphany, until you get home, look up 'epiphany', and realize that wasn't it at all. It was just a cramp. You'll drink so much water as to achieve a state of superhydration and will be obliged to spend months sucking on salt crystals. As for that china shop incident, property damage is overstated. Restitution leaves a happy glow. Lucky colour: red

Worries that you are developing a symbiotic relationship with your bicycle should prove unfounded, though it's true you're never seen apart. It's possible to change your name if not your star sign but the date and hour of your birth will influence life decisions until the day you die. Wear a helmet on March 15th even if you don't normally. Trust me on this. On a hygienic note, Muc-Off is a viable dentifrice. Lucky philosopher: Wittgenstein

Look, nobody's saying your degree in macroeconomics won't come in handy some day. Always remember that less is not more; less is less, otherwise it would be called 'more'. In an unrelated revelation, size does matter, if you're an insect. You will also gradually become aware that your cycle computer has been lying to you all these years. There have been many clues. A switch to kilometres is the fast lane to self-esteem. Lucky atomic element: Au

The end of the world is nigh! Don't worry, it won't affect you personally. Avoid cats, catnaps, catsup (ketchup is fine), cats-o-nine-tails, etc. Felines per se aren't the problem. A failure to mind the gap between perception and reality causes heartache. It becomes increasingly obvious that Shimano is from Mars, Campagnolo from Venus. You'll pine for a recumbent all year long but won't purchase one. Your partner will tell you 'Just buy the damn thing already', which strengthens your resolve. Still, you dally. Lucky projection: Mercator

Every month brings a minor tragedy followed by a moderate triumph, some bicycling-related, others in the realm of karaoke. There is much scope for improvement as you struggle to achieve a personal best for your rendition of 'I Will Survive'. Careless talk gets you booted out of the cycling club; sleeping around may heal wounds. If you're going tubeless put glue on the shopping list. Lucky defense mechanism: sublimation

Metaphors are trouble, similes less so. Analogies come easiest. Mid-year you will run out of things to say anyway, and have to rely on a ghostwriter to script everything, including small talk and Post-it Notes. It's looking increasingly likely that you will become a character in a Dickens novel, if Will Self doesn't get to you first. Leitmotifs remain elusive. Brompton groupies annoy with nonstop flattery. Lucky opera: Die Zauberflöte

Your bicycle will be stolen. You'll get it back. The thief will nick it again. This unhappy cycle will continue until you both seek mediation and agree to joint custody. One day this summer you'll unwisely don bibshorts for an audax through Norfolk, only to be attacked by an enraged local wielding a paving slab. Is the innertube half empty or half full? Lucky commodity: hard winter wheat

A friend will wager that you can't ride 1 mile one day, 2 the next, then 4, 8, etc., for a month. Don't take the bet. Somebody else will use your 15 minutes of fame and thoughtlessly neglect to thank you for it. That 'ticking' sound is actually coming from you, not your bike. Lucky chainring: the middle one. Failing that the one closest to you

Cycling Plus, January 2004