I am in a perpetual state of pinching myself, rubbing my eyes and pinching myself again. Somehow, some way, my beloved local football club, my Leicester City are top of the Premier League with 15 games to go.
We've been through the mill on Filbert Way since the turn of the century, as an extensive stretch of glory in the 1990s quickly faded in to the history books, my love of football and the Foxes coincided with their worst period in decades.
In 2008, we slipped in to League One, the third tier, for the first time in our history. That was followed by a title-winning season, a takeover by a billionaire, a reckless Swede who plunged us in to financial uncertainty, two unthinkable play-off heartbreaks - and finally a return to the top-flight.
I remember writing on The Huffington Post at the start of last season that Leicester City were in the Premier League to stay - but admittedly, at this stage last year, I was dreading that coming back to bite me on the backside as my club sat bottom of the pile with relegation a presumed certainty.
Alas, I was eventually proven right when City completed the greatest escape in Premier League history. And since that point, my football supporting life has been an uninterrupted dream. We're underdogs that for sure, but 23 games in to the campaign, we are top - and on merit.
I have seen the Foxes play some dire football in my time but this side is scintillating - fast, clever, slick and ruthless. I may be biased but Leicester have truly been the league's best side this season - I still can't believe I'm saying this.
Now, Champions League football seems the bare minimum and the Premier League title has become the official target. And given, the finances at play in modern football, it would truly be one of, if not, the greatest achievement in the English game's history.
Bleak afternoons wedged in the damp away ends at Oakwell and London Road, watching as Leicester were put through their paces by the likes of Barnsley and Peterborough United seem a lifetime away now.
And in turn, getting excited at the unveiling of players like Neil Danns and Lee Peltier being unveiled at the King Power Stadium seem hilarious.
Now, we're blessed with the pacy predator Jamie Vardy, England's number-nine, the wizard-like Algerian footballer of the year, Riyad Mahrez and N'Golo Kante, whose footballing ability defies the physical realms of human beings every Saturday.
These days, Leicester City are Premier League titans, European hopefuls, courters of the likes of Alvaro Morata, and the best footballing side in the country.
Yes, it may all go wrong, we may end up 5th, after all, we are the biggest bridesmaids in the nation. But nothing can take away our achievements over the last 12 months.
Why shouldn't we dream? We are in this title race, and as of now, we're in pole position. This side is brimming with quality and the unthinkable may occur after all.
Regardless of whether this title challenge comes to fruition, my boyhood club, who I have seen at the lowest ebb in their history have become the globe's most exciting team and ooh-ya fighter, I am loving it.