I don’t mean I spend every waking minute fantasising about custard tarts and glorious roast dinners (well, not every day) as the thought process includes guilt, anticipation, planning, grazing, purchasing and did I mention guilt?
If I had 50p for every time food (or rather strategies to eat less of it) is the centre of discussion at work, at home or in the wider world of media I would relaxing on a beach somewhere, albeit probably with a snack.
Food dictates the highs, the lows and the middle of our days at work, and represents the glories of being home, of a private or shared moment.
It represents relaxation, indulgence and discipline.
We are emotionally involved with food and it’s hardly surprising that we are getting fatter.
I know I am, but I suspect the government’s sugar tax intervention on drinks, introduced this week , is too little too late for me.
Considering that, as a nation, we are pretty obsessed with health and fitness, it seems ironic the government has to step in to tackle our waistlines.
Us grown ups, perfectly capable of making crucial life decisions, are somehow incapable of avoiding the sugary carb-filled treats we know are our downfall - they represent happiness albeit a fleeting impression.
And it’s an addictive lifestyle we have passed on to the younger generations with the help of gleeful sugar-fuelled corporations selling cheap bog-off treats to our mindless joy-seeking selves as we rush into supermarkets to get a bag of carrots and some broccoli.
A bag of 50p doughnuts won’t hurt, will it?
f we adults can’t see the error of our ways it’s hardly surprising children can’t see the issue with chugging back a can of coke - hence the sugar tax.
Hopefully it will make an impact on children’s health at least.
But until it includes many other products than just drinks it is just skirting around the problem in a way which seems to indicate its main concern is keeping the food industry, well, sweet.
And in the meantime, I’m thinking guiltily about my dinner.