Cancer sun, Sagittarius moon.

You want roots and a departures board.

The nest with a horizon moon: homesick abroad, wanderlust at home. The trick was never choosing; it is a base camp built for leaving well. Come home on purpose, not by default.

Ceilings make you sad before you know why.

A Sagittarius moon refuels on horizon: the booked ticket, the open question, the sense that the map is bigger than the town. Your moods are geography; a stuck feeling is usually a stuck location.

Let the plans hold what the weather cannot.

You launch on the outside and drift on the inside: decisions come easily, moods come tidal. You can commit to a plan in a minute and renegotiate your feelings about it for a month.

You are not a typical Cancer; nobody with this moon is.

The internet writes Cancer off as a mood with legs. Your Sagittarius moon rewrites the chemistry: underneath runs a furnace, and it votes. Whatever the surface promises, the inner life is heat: quick to love, quick to defend, lit from the first hour of the day.

Feed the moon first: motion, heat, a start.

Ten minutes of beginning something cures what a whole evening of rest cannot. Leave one evening a week unplanned and race the daylight instead.