They mostly come at night. Mostly.

One week in and it’s not too bad during the day. Just focus on those menial tasks, keep talking, make endless cups of coffee - anything to stop your mind from drifting into that dangerous territory and your hand absently searching the desk drawer.

But at night... the horror, the horror! As the sun sets and the curtains are drawn, they slowly emerge, laying siege to your resolve and testing your mental defences with their Siren-like enchanted calling. (Editor’s note: insert picture of a singing, bikini-clad crisp)

The cravings are here.

Relentlessly, they seek for a weak spot in which to drive their sharp, poisonous talons. Smokers have nicotine patches, heroin addicts have methadone, sex addicts have...cold showers. But what can wretched crispites call upon to act as a crutch?

At first glance, we appear well served, but this year-long abstinence is more than just obeying the letter of the law; the spirit must be upheld too. A good rule of thumb is if you can buy it in a pub, it’s banned.

So Twiglets - banned. Mini Cheddars - banned. Dry roasted, salted or chili nuts - banned, banned, banned. The aforementioned pork scratchings - banned so hard that they squeal.

But the snacks that remain are simply too virtuous and too bland to fill that crunchy, salty, fatty vacuum. We’re taking raw, unsalted nuts. Rice crackers. Oat cakes. Of course, they’re nutritious and it’s hard to argue against their inclusion in a well-balanced diet. But crisps have never been about nutrition and balanced diets. They’re junk. And as any junkie will tell you, there’s nothing like the hit of the real thing.