By the time our Delta flight touched down in Minneapolis on Thursday, I had a full-blown head cold. I was pathetic with my little red nose, watery eyes and arm in a sling.
After checking into our Native American-themed hotel, we dragged our bags down several long corridors to our room which I dubbed "The Trail of Tears."
I threw myself on the bed, only rising long enough to get ready for my shows and to perform. I even went back to bed between sets.
Somehow the shows were great. Minneapolis is a great little comedy town and I will forever be grateful to the audience for not making me work hard.
Now I'm home. The sneezing has been replaced by coughing and my arm hurts worse than it did a few days ago because I'm out of the good drugs.
Oh well, there's no place to go but up.
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