Also, if you'll all indulge me for a moment.
We're playing like brick.
We have 1 point from 12, having lost to Burnley, Southampton and Chelsea.
It's uncertain whether we'll finish in the top four, or whether we'll return to being Europa League chancers once again.
Our players are tired, and we're broke. We haven't made a signing for 18 months.
Christian Eriksen and Toby Alderweireld look set to leave at the end of the season, and the era of this team is coming to an end - there will be a rebuild required this summer, come what may.
City will likely pump us in the Champions League quarter-final, and there are question marks around where we go from here.
But, two years ago, at the end of the 2016-2017 season...
....Mauricio Pochettino stood in the centre circle of the old White Hart Lane for the last time, tears in his eyes, as the old place echoed to the songs of old. For one last time.
'For the last time, Spurs go marching in to White Hart Lane.'
It's been a strange two years in exile.
A strange, topsy-turvy time, for the team, and for me. Playing in a ground that wasn't our own, bottling it, and yet not bottling it - moments of joy, of frustration, of ups and downs and all that comes with football.
And life - personally, I've had my ups, and my downs. I've been in places I don't want to dwell on, and I've lived with a feeling of despair that I would never fit in, never find a purpose...
..never find a home.
It's been a strange two years in exile.
But we're home.
Spurs are home. And I think, so am I. My life has changed, and I've found people, purpose and a place in life that I can call my own. It's small, but it's all I ever really asked for.
I'm going to visit that place one day. And I will do so knowing that, at long last....
Tottenham Hotspur are back home.
Whatever else happens, this season will be worth it for that alone.
Enjoy, folks. I wish you all the very best. Thanks for bearing with me all this time. And one day soon, I'll hopefully join you in this new cathedral of ours - a place to call our own.