Well it's been nigh on three weeks since I put finger to keyboard - at least in any meaningful way - and for those of you who hang on to my every word like a baby tooth clings to a toddler's gums, I can only apologise. The rest of you seemed to have managed okay.
Much has passed since Arsenal were top of the league - and by God if they aren't still there - hovering happily like Wile E Coyote, just before he looks down and finds there's nothing between him and the ground.
In the meantime Manchester City continue to slap all-comers around like the flat-track bullies they are, but still get all agoraphobic when they have to leave Eastlands. Incidentally I noticed there was a vote going on for African Player of the Year. The answer you're looking for is Yaya Toure - the rest are but crumpled beer cans that he carries in his magisterial wake.
Chelsea are starting to grind into the relentless Mourinho mode - cheerless and efficient - and United are at the very least stabilising with Rooney showing his best from since he was 17 years of age. I think Moyes can take a little bit of credit there.
Southampton have been a delightful exception to the expected rule but the main subject of current speculation is that fidgety football student Andre Villas-Boas and his expensively assembled bunch of dullards.
It is way too early for Spurs fans to bringing out the old Juande Ramos banners and altering the names a bit, but there is definitely a sense of stagnation at White Hart Lane at the moment. It doesn't help that AVB has taken over after a couple of seasons of high entertainment - some of it supplied by 'Arry's cavaliers, and the rest of it almost entirely by Gareth Bale.
It's hard not to review AVB's second season in the light of Bale's absence. The Welsh wonderchimp dug them out of so many holes last season and when AVB needs a ludicrous thirty-yarer from someone it seems that the first one to have a swing is Kyle Walker. It's not quite the same is it? I mean if you want someone to knock in a double-top to win you a darts fixture you don't seek out the drunkest man in the pub.
Actually I like Walker - going forward (by which I mean 'going forward' and not 'in the future') - but his form typifies the problems Spurs are having. And the bad news is, it's very reminiscent of Chelsea under the same manager.
Tottenham have some very sharp attackers still but only if the ball is moved quickly. You could put a couple of greyhounds on your left flank and you'd still have a lot of bother keeping up with Walker and Lennon. But stick a couple of banks of four and some hard-chasing forwards ahead of them and Spurs move the ball around like pensioners handing around a bucket of water.
When he played for England Walker repeatedly got the byline but cut back every time because you're better keeping the ball than doing anything dangerous with it. All this ploddery means that AVB's boys are constantly getting clogged up in front of a dogged and organised team.
What's more Soldado, a lad who plays much more off the last man's shoulder than with his back to goal, is looking like a waste of space and money. Not that there's anyone to spark off particularly. He does look a little bit on his ownsome.
The midfielders, capable players one and all, seem unable to imagine themselves bursting past the opposition back four either, unless it's one of those all guns blazing finishes that the White Hart Lane faithful are getting used to. Eighty minutes of pitter-patter tippy-tappy followed by ten minutes of the Siege of Mafeking.
Villas-Boas's team has a 100% record in the Europa League. Mind you they are still at the 'where the fuck do they come from?' stage of the tournament. If you can't beat Rfnsubzphlix Grabbenhoffsted home and away you're in real bother.
Not that a 6-0 drubbing at Man City should be cause for concern. Citeh can hammer anyone on their day. But the stats for that game tell you that Spurs had more possession and corners in that game. The nil is the problem, not the 6. Put simply, they don't score enough. It doesn't help that the proven goalscorer Jermain Defoe is left to prove himself on chilly European nights rather than in the Premier League.
The plain truth is that the reason the home fans at Spurs are getting so restless is that they're having the pants bored off them every other week. It seems to be the AVB way. True, they haven't conceded too many. But Jeez there ought to be more to show for the Bale bonanza than scraping ugly draws against Hull with well dodgy penalties.
While we are on the subject of entertainment, congratulations to Rodgers and Martinez for putting out two such reckless sides for the last Merseyside derby. A game that had grown tired, mean and fractious suddenly flowered into a thing of madcap beauty. Footy at its best.
Of course had Mirallas been sent off for his bollock-high assault on the Uruguayan Bernie Winters it might well have been a much more straightforward affair. But Phil Dowd, no doubt somewhere deep within him wishing he could do summat like that to Suarez and get away with it, let it pass with a yellow. Not right, of course, but a much better game because of it.
In other news, Australian cricketers are much better when they wear moustaches, and the Sports Personality of the Year Award nominees are pointlessly announced. If it's not Andy Murray then I'm a Scotsman. Not that he can be considered British really. Or at least this time next year.