Who do I start with? The players? The manager? The board?
I know ? Ronan Keating, that's who. I've never liked him.
It's not just that ridiculous roaring noise he makes when he sings, though that's bad enough. (Ronan, you sing it best when you sing nothing at all.)
What really gets me is the way he warbles about how 'Life is a rollercoaster and you just gotta ride it…' with a big grin on his face as if it's fun or something.
I'm sorry, but I don't like riding rollercoasters. In fact, they make me feel nauseous.
You're down, you're up, then you're plunging back down again? urgh, where's the bin?
I've had this queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach since the Coventry game, and it's the worst I've known for years.
If I have any regular readers, you may recall that I was able to attain a degree of equanimity when we were in trouble last season and at the start of this one. That's gone right out of the window this time.
The difference is that on those occasions I was able to develop a more philosophical attitude over the course of a few weeks, whereas this time we've gone from feeling safe to rubbing our rosaries almost overnight.
I really didn't see the danger coming, which I suppose makes me as guilty of complacency as anyone else at Carrow Road.
However, on the basis that we often castigate others with particular vehemence for faults that we're aware we have ourselves, I find I'm unreasonably angry with the team for putting us through all this again.
I say 'unreasonably', because I'm well aware that it was their fantastic efforts which took us from rock bottom to the top half in the first place. And the only thing that's ever been predictable about Norwich is our unpredictability.
But all the same ? grrr.
From time to time, you hear about managers inviting fans into the dressing room to air their feelings with the players. I seem to remember Gary Megson doing this when he was at Nottingham Forest, not that it helped then.
But I don't think it would be a good idea for me to talk to the players at the moment; it would just be embarrassing. I'd sound like a parent telling off a child, especially with so many young players in the squad. (The dressing room's a boy zone at the moment. See what I did there? Oh, you did… sorry…)
The thing is, when you become a parent, you can't help coming out with certain phrases when you're irritated. Like 'I don't say no for fun, you know'. Or 'There are starving people in Africa who'd love that food…'
If I were to address the players, there's a high chance that they'd be treated to such gems as:
'Well, that was clever, wasn't it?'
'You made the mess, it's up to you to clear it up.'
'You'll thank me for this one day.'
'This isn't a hotel, you know.' (Apart from the one in that corner of the ground, anyway.)
'You haven't just let me down, you've let yourselves down.'
And of course, the classic:
'This is hurting me more than it's hurting you…'
If I'm being fair, though; this isn't the time for anger and recriminations. After all, there are still seven games left in which to get the points we need to survive, and we need to roar the team on in every one, starting on Saturday.
Two or three quick wins will swiftly render the anxiety in this column as redundant as the aspirations of my last one.
I certainly don't want to be going to Sheffield Wednesday on the last day with us still needing something from the game. I want that to be a meaningless fixture which I can happily skip in favour of my in-laws' golden wedding party.
As with Wolves' victory against Scunthorpe the other evening, you can find yourself wishing for the unlikeliest things at this stage of the season.
And finally… as it's not the done thing to laugh when a player gets injured, I will settle for recounting the following events without comment.
Friday 14th March. Shefki Kuqi rejoins Ipswich, saying: 'The fans here are the best in the world? They give me an energy like no other. As soon as I cross that white line in front of them, I feel like I have new legs…'
Saturday 15th March. Crosses white line and pulls hamstring after 11 minutes.
Right, I'm off to the Ipswich section of this site to see what they're saying about Matty Pattison's pants…