Aquarius — June 2026

*Pluto* has been sitting in your first house for a while now, and if you were expecting a tasteful renovation — something artful and considered, like a mood board your flatmate might admire — I'm sorry to tell you that Pluto doesn't do tasteful. Pluto rips out the load-bearing walls first and asks questions after. What's shifting this month is the gap between who you perform yourself to be and who is actually standing in the kitchen at 11pm eating cereal over the sink because you haven't done the washing up since Tuesday. And I do mean *since Tuesday*. Because June is, in a fairly specific and unhelpful way, your domestic month. *Jupiter* is in Cancer in your sixth house, and while that sounds grand, the sixth house is the house of daily life — routine, hygiene, the ordinary machinery of keeping yourself functional. Jupiter expands what it touches. Your pile of washing up is, astrologically speaking, going to expand. The recycling you've been meaning to sort. The thing in the fridge you're technically investigating but practically refusing to confront. Jupiter in Cancer says *care for yourself*, and you're going to interpret this as staying in on a Friday, which is not the same thing, however many podcasts you listen to while doing it. The *New Moon* on the 15th lands in Gemini, in your fifth house of pleasure, creativity, and the particular brand of impulsive decision-making that feels like self-expression in the moment and like a problem in retrospect. Gemini energy is fast and chatty and changeable — I say this with some self-awareness — and the ideas you have around the new moon will be genuinely exciting and also genuinely too many. You'll start two projects and finish a third that you invented in the middle. Whatever you begin in love around this time will have that same Gemini quality: sparkling, interesting, slightly difficult to pin down. You'll call this a feature. The other person will eventually call it something else. *Mars* moves into Gemini mid-month, and suddenly your fifth house has both a new moon and a planet of action sitting in it, which sounds thrilling until you notice that Mars in Gemini scatters energy in seven directions simultaneously and calls it being dynamic. In a relationship, this means you'll become more interesting to yourself and slightly harder to be with. You'll want to discuss everything, reconsider everything, reframe everything. You'll suggest the conversation as a way of avoiding the feelings. The person across from you will notice, even if they can't name it. The *Full Moon* on the 30th is in Capricorn, your twelfth house. The twelfth house is endings, hidden things, the stuff you won't say out loud. A Full Moon there is the month writing you a letter in the middle of the night, the kind that starts "about that thing you haven't dealt with." *Saturn* is in Aries in your third house — communication, yes, but also your immediate environment, the people nearby, the things you keep almost saying and then don't. At the full moon, it'll all sit there and look at you. The bit you won't want to hear is this: you've redesigned the system three times, and the system is still broken, because redesigning the system is the thing you do instead of following the system. The spreadsheet exists. You just don't open it. You care more than almost anyone, and you show it in the most inconvenient possible ways. That's something, even when it's maddening. Especially then, if I'm paying attention — which, against my better judgement, I am.