So, it's time for the United Center game.

I'm sitting in my spectacular hotel room at the downtown Hilton in Chicago, about 12 hours away from doing my intros at the United Center. This game is just different than the others. It's the whole lights out, Illinois only intros. It's the jerseys in the rafters. It's the fact that this is where I went in the early 90s, to see basketball Jesus. It's the fact that he'll be there, and his statue will be out front. It's the fact that these fans are a little more basketball savvy, and quite frankly, don't give a crap about who the PA announcer is. I like that.
My throat, on the other hand, is not ready. It's in pain. I'm muddling through right now. After Clemson, there was a ton of pain. I think once the new insurance plan kicks in on January 1, I'm going to go to the ENT doctor, just to get it looked at. Granted, I know he'll just say "rest it." But I just want to make sure that there isn't anything else to be done.
I really do need a flat screen TV, don't I. Yes. I do.
This Hilton only has about 25 stations. That seems odd to me.
When I get nervous, as I am right now, I want to eat. I'm craving diner food. Eggs and hash browns. What I have is gluten free granola bars.
And Predator on TV, apparently, as evidenced by Carl Weathers and Jesse "The Body" Ventura.
Sarah has laryngitis. I freaked out on her this morning. I feel bad about that. But not entirely. Because laryngitis is not something to eff around with.
I made gluten free lasagna for Julia and I last night. Shockingly, it was OK. I'm happy to have a good excuse to cook again.
I think I'm running out of time on my one hour of internet here. I'm hoping to get through tomorrow, and see what I have left for Monday. I'm also hopeful that a night of rest will help my throat. And maybe some hot tea in the morning.
Outside of that: things are going well.
Love you all most of the time.