Today was the weekend's grand finale. There will not be another one for several days.
The day was spent in the sun, drifting around the Gulf of Mexico, my hands high to the warm air jazzing frequently. Although somewhere along the way, my hands became cut and bloodied pulling up anchors to allow our vessel to drift, the effort was well worth the results.
Anchors are meant to weigh you down. Your hands are meant to attain freedom.
It's time to mend my sunburnt shoulders and lacerated hands and settle in for the long work week.
Today's Jazz Hands are brief. You've endured far too many extensive posts lately, and deserve a day adrift.
Day two-hundred and twenty-three complete.
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