Honestly, Virgo, if fretting were an Olympic event you'd do more podium-mounting than a bulldog in heat.

Listen: you're not sweating heavily because of a rare glandular disease, it's summer and your cardy's a wool-nylon mix;

that lump on your thigh is not malignant, it's used Kleenex compressed in your pocket after a couple of turns in the washing machine;

and you're not about to have a stroke, you just didn't take the pins out the collar of your lovely new shirt.

The sun's conjunction with Neptune counsels caution with soft-centres or fondant fancies.

Wear more green, it makes you look fatherly.