Hello. I'm writing this in Helen Chamberlain's house. I've come here so James Wade can fix my housemate's car. He's good with cars. He's on his way to Woking to pick up a part.
Perhaps I'll get my own car one day - but I've never bought a car and wouldn't know how to do it. I'll put that on my list of things to do in the summer, along with go to South America without contracting pig flu, and take some clothes to a charity shop.
Anyway last Sunday, it was game on. Torquay needed to beat Burton, and then we needed to beat Altrincham by a lot to become a league side once again.
Unfortunately for us, Altrincham came to spoil the party, stuck 10 men behind the ball and time wasted from the first minute. Boo them.
We missed a load of chances and it was just going to be one of those days. 0-0.
The most exciting part of it wasn't watching our game, but knowing what happened at Plainmoor, that's what mattered to us. So from the first minute, everyone who knew how to get the internet on their phone (i haven't worked that out yet) was checking the Torquay score.
Early on, my mate john refreshed the scores and Burton had gone one up. Disappointed whispers ran quickly across the crowd.
A minute later and there was a massive cheer from a middle aged man on our left. Now normally at a football match someone cheers when something happens in front of them. And for a split second I wondered why the middle aged man was getting completely over excited about a throw in on the half way line. And then it clicked - 1-1 at Plainmoor.
Ten minutes later, Torquay took the lead - the news spread round the Abbey like wildfire.
Half time - 0-0 here, 2-1 there. We needed a goal quickly. It didn't come. But early in the second half, the Newmarket Road End opposite us (I'd got their too late and had to go in the South Stand), started singing "3-1 to the Torquay". We got very excited.
We only needed three now. The players would know this and realise it was back on. Then John checked his phone. It was still 2-1. Somehow a renegade fan had invented a Torquay goal. The whisper had turned into a chant and now the players would think it was 3-1. That could have been so dangerous.
In the end it didn't matter - the script is set. We do Stevenage, Torquay do Histon and we'll meet at Wembley. Finger's crossed.
The following day - was Dion Dublin's legends game. He very kindly invited me to play, alongside a team of Cambridge United heroes: Vaughan, Fensome, Kimble, Daish, O Shea, Chapple, Wilkins, Philpott, Leadbitter, Clayton, Taylor and Dublin (those players might not mean much to you, but to a Cambridge fan, that's like reeling off the 1966 England side).
Also playing, a couple of auction winners, Coventry City's Robbie Simpson (a former U who's a real proper current professional footballer and it showed!) and me.
So I was on the bench, came on after 20 for Liam Daish, told Dion to go centre back and wandered up front. In short this was my performance. Fell over immediately, lost possession, hit the bar with a header, was heavily involved in our first two goals, won 4-3 with some help from the officials, got drunk with the legends, ate a very big kebab - it was six quid! Cambridge is more expensive than it used to be.
Fortunately for me, Baby Elvis had brought two cameramen to film my every move. So it's heartening to know that as I climbed to loop a header over their keeper and onto the bar, the closest I will ever get to scoring a goal at the Abbey Stadium - both cameramen were having a cup of tea.
Have a good week....