Blimey, the gaff and the clan are all up in your noggin, aren’t they? Expect a sense of calm as tranquil as a sloth on Valium, both at your hovel and the old work mill. Even the old farts upstairs seem to have pulled the sticks from their arses, and are acting as friendly as the Queen at a garden party. This goes a long way in making chinwags between the bigwigs and the plebs less like pulling teeth. Your lucky charm for the day: a four-leaf clover. Good luck finding one of those though, you’d have a better chance seeing Boris Johnson on a bike without messing up his hair.

Come back tomorrow for another exciting horoscope!