Head in hands when Mackie's header went in the net. I was just so flat, and was hating the commentator (Tyler) with a passion. All I could think about was the texts / calls / emails / gloats that would be winging my way. Thinking about avoiding the papers with all the "we knew that city would choke". Thinking that it would be bad for a week but then maybe it would get subsumed by the Euros. And then it'll start all over again at the beginning of next season.... crap crap crap.
Then we were pushing forward, I thought Balo had scored and then I thought that Edin had scored. Up on my feet, yelling, exhorting, come on come on come on we can do it. Corner after corner and then and then and then IT'S IN!! Looking at the clock, holding my daughter's hand, my other half's hand, can we do it can we do it? All of us on our feet, yelling at the screen when QPR pressed up the pitch and then back it went. Back into the box, Mario stretching, off his feet, pushing the ball across to Sergio, jinking round Ned and then oh my holy CRAP we scored. Shouting, incoherent, crying, dancing, until I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. So happy and yet utterly wrung out.
Bliss. And I've been there since.