Crossing the Burning Sands. Maybe I'm not quite on a mission from God, but I also don't believe they're gonna have to call out the Illinois National Guard to catch me.
That's it kids. Zero hour. Game time. Kickoff. Here we go again. It's a 106 miles to Chicago...
I'd like to tell you all that I'm super ready, as I know what I'm getting into, and that I'm ready to put the pedal to metal and keep my foot to the floor. But maybe fear of the unknown is better in this situation. Cockiness does not work well in this situation.
I'm up early to eat and make sure I've got the three things I can take in the exam room with me ready, to a quick paranoid re-read of a subject or two, just in case, maybe say a prayer or fifteen, just because, and make sure I can get there with no trouble.
At least I won't oversleep. That's something. Isn't it?