We're now four weeks into our post-election limbo and nothing has changed.
Actually, that's not entirely true. In fact, since February 8, things have become demonstrably worse on a number of levels.
The global economy has begun to tumble at an almost exponential rate. The housing, health and homelessness crises have continued to spiral into even darker territory. Boris Johnson - whose government announces its first budget tomorrow -seems increasingly intent on playing a dangerous game of chicken with the EU.
And, of course, the world has become gripped by Covid-19. That last issue, with worries about the virus now ubiquitous, may turn into a mass-killing global pandemic. Equally, it could burn itself out in the next few weeks.
But it has already cost more than €45bn in lost worldwide manufacturing exports, and anyone who read the financial pages yesterday will have been forgiven for shuddering when they saw the dreaded phrase 'Black Monday' used in relation to the stock markets.
So presumably the main parties have been burning the midnight oil - even those parties that object to fossil fuels.
Well, there are two ways of looking at this current state of incomprehensible -and, frankly, unforgivable - paralysis.
Either Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil have been busy with productive meetings and are about to pull a most unexpected rabbit out of the hat, or, as seems far more likely, they are still stuck in old arguments about old issues, and are engaged in posturing which is no longer a mere face-off but has started to resemble a circular firing squad.
The leaders of the two big parties have done themselves no favours and the longer this farcical impasse continues, the more tenuous their own positions become.
Reports of grumbling within the Fianna Fáil faithful have begun to pick up steam, and even more leaks came out at the weekend.
The call from TD John Lahart to invite Sinn Féin into a national government of emergency, utterly contrary to the party line in the run-up to the election, is another sign that Micheál Martin is entering a spring of discontent within his ranks.
His repeated and full-blooded denunciations of Sinn Féin, both before and since the February election, may have been sincere, but they are beginning to look increasingly counter-productive, and Mary Lou McDonald's boast that Sinn Féin now "lives rent-free" in his head seems to have some validity.
It was also interesting to see Jim O'Callaghan beginning to row back on his previous assertions that he would never countenance getting into bed with Sinn Féin.
Apart from anything else, he was convinced their policies would "turn Ireland into Venezuela", but in a rare admission from any politician, O'Callaghan has conceded that: "Maybe we were too definitive about that, but we said it, we said the same about Fine Gael. However, I think we all need to get together to form a government."
That's one hell of a climbdown, and it can be reasonably inferred that the Fianna Fáil grassroots, like nearly everyone else in the country, is desperate to form a working government.
I say "nearly everyone", because Leo Varadkar seems to be doing his best to confirm the rumours about him being surly in the wake of the vote.
While Simon Coveney has been doing the heavy lifting, the news trickling out of Fine Gael HQ does not indicate a happy Leo. In fact, if the leaks - from several sources all saying the same thing - are to believed, we are now being held hostage by the Taoiseach's hubris and sense of disgruntlement.
There was a brief glimmer of hope last week, when some senior meetings between the parties seemed to go well, until they returned from a break and Fine Gael once more started to play hard ball.
On this occasion, one of the leaks claimed that: "There's obvious enmity between Varadkar and Martin. Leo will not be making Micheál Taoiseach easily, and he will want him to go through every stage of pain possible before a deal is done."
Of course, the general consensus for the past few weeks is that Varadkar and his cronies know they will ultimately end up in the so-called 'grand coalition' with Fianna Fáil, the Greens and a smattering of Independents.
So, in other words, and contrary to all his assertions, our Taoiseach is still playing these infuriating and seemingly interminable political games while the country, rudderless, seems to be sliding inexorably towards another recession.
Even his demeanour regarding Covid-19 has been baffling in its indifference.
Yesterday saw the cancellation of Dublin's St Patrick's Day parade. In the current climate, that decision was both expected and correct.
Yet Varadkar shirked his responsibility on even that issue, still insisting last week that it would "more than likely" go ahead, even as other events were being cancelled in droves.
He heads off for a truncated visit to the States tomorrow, and despite the inevitable criticism he has received for that decision, the simple reality is that we need our Taoiseach - whoever they are - to meet the US president - whoever they are.
If we skip one of these annual meetings, we run the risk of them never happening again, so it's vital that he attends. But it's a damning indictment of Varadkar to point out that he won't be missed while he is gone.
Meanwhile, Sinn Féin TDs are laughing. And who can blame them? They have been placed in a win-win situation by the unforgivable obduracy of a petulant Taoiseach. In fact, as Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael settle scores which are utterly inimical to the national interest, Sinn Féin becomes more attractive with each passing day. It's a state of affairs which has evolved from merely shambolic to positively shameful.
Anything short of a quick deal for a Fine Gael/Fianna Fáil/Green collaboration leaves us with a series of equally unlovely prospects - a coalition of the unwilling, ie, the temporary government of national unity, or another election which the people don't want and could well lead to Sinn Féin hitting 48-50 seats.
It is always bad for democracy when the people are cynical about politics. But it is even worse when it's the politicians who are the cynics.