Alright, love, brace yourself for a year that’s gonna be itchier than a thrush outbreak in a nunnery. You’re gonna be craving freedom like a fat bloke at a salad bar. No one and nothing can pin you down, not even a randy wrestler with a grudge. You’ve got ants in your pants, darling, and you’re ready to try anything new – like a granny at a rave. Spontaneity is your new middle name – you’re likely to change your mind more often than a reality TV star changes bed partners. And adapting? You’re like a chameleon on a tartan rug, darling, you can blend in anywhere. Lucky charm: A rubber duck. Slip it in your pocket and remember, like the duck, let the rubbish wash off your back and keep your beady eyes forward. Plus, if anyone annoys you, you can always chuck it at them. It’s slightly less illegal than a brick.

Come back tomorrow for another exciting horoscope!