HALLELUJAH. January is finally over. Was it just me or did it go on for about a decade?

I tried my hardest a few weeks ago to muster up some positives about January and I think I almost convinced myself, but my word it has plodded on and on, shrouded in dampness for the most part.

It got so bleak at one point, I had no option but to turn to one of my guiltiest pleasures to see me through.

This dark little habit of mine is one I have admitted to you before, so it might not come as a huge surprise.

Chances are you are also indulging in this highly addictive activity, mostly around 9pm of an evening. Yes. I am talking Love Island.

Usually a summertime treat, ITV2 have played an absolute blinder deciding to launch a winter version of the show this year.

Somehow, immersing myself in the antics of scantily clad 20-somethings living their so-called best lives in a villa in South Africa is proving quite therapeutic.

Believe me, I am more than aware of the myriad reasons I should not watch this show, but that is why it is a guilty pleasure and you cannot please everyone with your viewing choices, least of all my husband.

Speaking of the other half, his televisual guilty pleasure differs to mine.

I am sure he will not mind me sharing with you, but he has a penchant for those low-budget outtake shows often aired on Channel 5.

You know the ones, they have titles like “When Weather Presenters Go Rogue” or “TV’s Funniest Animals in Awkward Social Situations” or whatever.

They seem to be on constantly with each programme lasting at least three hours and featuring a collection of C-list talking heads, commenting on each hilarious clip shown.

I have been known to get sucked into them myself, mostly as a test to see if I still remember the names of the Nineties celebrities who pop up between the outtakes.

To be fair, I cannot scoff at his filthy, trashy telly habit as I have more than enough of my own.

We all do and it is what makes us human, right?

If we all had standards, Mrs Brown’s Boys would not have won a National Television Award this week.

My guilty pleasures extend into other arenas too.

Why I am sharing them with you is beyond me, but in for a penny.

It is not unusual for me to make up mini dance routines to my favourite tunes when alone in the house.

This would not be weird if I was 12, but I am 45 so perhaps not so cool. But no one can see me, so who cares?

I have always been rather fond of those probably-not-true articles you get in certain magazines who claim their interviewee has spent £20k marrying her Renault Clio, or has had a baby with a werewolf.

Since the invention of the internet, I have been thoroughly spoilt with this nonsense and can lose hours reading about a man who eats lightbulbs for every meal, or a woman who only dates convicted serial killers. Fascinating. Also, for one who professes to be relatively healthy most of the time with my smug veggie diet and overall lack of junk food, I have some pretty questionable eating habits I like to roll out now and then.

I like butter on cake. Any cake if I can get away with it, but I try to keep it to banana bread and malt loaf as that seems more acceptable somehow. In fact, I would put butter on anything given half the chance... Weetabix, crisps, biscuits, pasta.

That one is a hangover from university 25 years ago and is still one of my go to recipes if my husband is out. When I say recipe, it is literally just pasta of any variety slathered in butter and black pepper. If I am being really fancy I grate cheese on top.

It probably has the same nutritional value as a cardboard box, but a girl is allowed to treat herself now and then.

On the subject of university cuisine, I can top my buttered pasta effort with something so utterly inspired I only allow myself to enjoy it once or twice a year.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Supernoodle sandwich.

It is exactly as described and works best with the chow mein variety in my opinion.

White bread is preferable too as it really captures the essence of the whole experience. Do not knock it until you have tried it.

Sneak out now while no one is looking and grab a packet, you will not be disappointed. Aside from that, my kitchen habits are pretty dull. Well, unless I am so hungry I do not even have the patience to prepare a sandwich. I have been known to peel back the wrapper on a slab of cheddar and take a massive bite.

That is the beauty of living with dairy avoiders. No one will ever know.