I stand in the mirror this morning, breaking all of my own rules (well...most of my own rules, I am fully clothed). I have yet to enjoy my alluringly robust beverage with deep cherry and cocoa notes, combined with the oaky flavors of a fine bourbon. I have not locked Cat and her judging eyes outdoors (she has lost all interest by now anyhow). I have not even wiped the sleep from my eyes. Yet here I stand...let the hand jazzing festivities begin.
Instead of merely deploying Jazz Hands, I imagine the mirror as a photograph. I pose dramatically and as motionless as I can possibly muster, all the while in a Jazz Hands stance...you know, to emulate photography.
Give me ridiculous. Give me pathetic. Give me three-hundred-forty more days of this nonsense. Give me a break.
Day twenty-five complete.
Cant wait to see jazz hands in person, one week 3 hours...
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