Beware of making short-sighted behavioral choices based on what promises to feel good in the moment, Taurus—e.g., consummating a forbidden union, transgressing a healthful bodily limit, taking the gloves off and vindictively getting even, going further than you should—but will likely weigh on you later, with a guilty conscience and/or retroactive consequences. You're at a point where it behooves you to consciously curb the amount of karmic strings your actions create, complications which would restrict your existential freedom and give others too defensible a say in how you ought to proceed in the present situation. It's far wiser to heed the watchful sway of that guardian-angel floating over your shoulder, whispering in your ear, in no uncertain terms, what's the divinely correct thing for you to do… even if it makes no sense to anyone else, even if they're riled by your shameless self-determination, even if your actions or attitudes necessarily carry you away from them, for a passing time or forever. You are the only one who must live eternally with the psychic ramifications of how you behave with regards to the circumstances unfolding in front of you. For your own highest accountability, therefore, choose what's most virtuously clean over whatever's indulgently tempting or interpersonally popular.
Back to a more linear grind, Scorpio. You'll do yourself—and the duties you're charged with, on the job and/or as a healthy and productive participant in mundane earthly reality—a major disservice by resisting this critical appeal. Despite the sobering effect on your imagination this return to tangible obligations is liable to have, you will be better off for swallowing the back-to-work pill like a champ. If you smartly accept an interpretation of your most recent phase as a restorative break from the typical routine (rather than, say, indulging the fantasy that you could sustainably live all your days like you lived those and still have something tangible to show for it), then you ought to feel properly revived… and rarin' to make the absolute most of these next weeks, an interval during which you hold the potential of accomplishing shitloads more tasks than any average un-revived human being could possibly muster. (We're talking shitloads of shitloads, folks!) But if instead you choose to rebel against this inevitable tide-turn, like the insolent guest who refuses to leave the party even after the hosts have shut off the music and begun cleaning up, you'll only accrue a backlog of physical energies aching to be channeled into some concrete purpose. And trust me, my friend, that will cause you much more harm than good, even as your inner escapist tries to convince you otherwise.
So what did I do? Today was the last day to renew my lease for another year. This year I claimed I was going to do something different, like move. Hah. I bailed out because moving is too damned hard and I can't stand to be in a state of anxiety and fighting and purging for most of the next year, ever apparently. I decided to optimistically renew and hope that I could figure something else out.