Listen up, petal, you’re not the bloody Salvation Army, are you? You’re fluttering about like a moth in a knickers drawer, doing every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s bidding without so much as a thought for your own needs. You’re about as likely to turn down a favour as a dog is to turn down a sausage roll, and it’s about time you stopped. You can’t keep playing Mother Teresa without a nun’s habit and a sainthood, love. You’re hoarding responsibilities like a squirrel with a nut fetish, and it’s no wonder you’re more strung out than a violin at a symphony. If you’re feeling like a teabag in a storm, don’t go all stiff upper lip, reach out for a lifeline. There’s no medal for martyrdom, darling, and no one’s going to thank you when you’re more burnt out than a cheap candle at a seance. And for your lucky charm, try a rubber duck. Just because you’re drowning in your own good intentions, doesn’t mean you can’t have a giggle with a squeaky bath toy. Plus, it doubles as an emergency flotation device. There’s a twofer for you! Oh, and your lucky colour? Try red. It’s the colour of danger, love, and the eyes of every bugger you’ve been bending over backwards for. Maybe it’ll remind you to stop before you turn into a doormat.

Come back tomorrow for another exciting horoscope!