It's the plague that devours any and all productivity. I want to go to the bar. Now.

All I can think about is football and that in one week from today I'll be driving westbound on I-80 and heading to PSU.

And as much as my ass is chaffed by names on the jerseys, the B1G logos, and the helmet sticker/ribbon (obligatory: I hate child abuse), I cannot wait to see this team take the field and BOB & Co. run the operation. "Fresh, innovative playcalling! Adaptability! No more use of the US Postal Service to deliver the play to the QB!" I want it! Gimme! That, on top of the character and defiance that this team has shown, has me bouncing off the walls.

But, then, I remember that Joe isn't going to be there. I miss him, and I know it's really going to hit me hard looking at that gameday sideline and not seeing him.

There will be a hell of a lot of mixed emotions for me, but there's no place on Earth that I'd rather be on September 1, 2012.