About forty-five minutes to go time. I'm getting stage-fright.
I survived! It was rambling and strange and I haven't had so many boob jokes made about me in the last five years, but it was a lot of fun anyway. (Squid's a dear friend, and in his own diabolical and perverse way, good for my ego.)
And if they can't get their regular anchor on next week, I may be back to be traumatized again.
Thanks to the people who called in/logged in/etc!
Although next time, I gotta find somewhere else to call from than an abandoned tennis court. I have to pace when I talk or my brain shut down, but a two hour show is REALLY hard on my feet.