Colonoscopy Week Live! - 5pm, I could bite the legs off a low-flying duck

If you ever find yourself mid-fast, that is to say you haven’t eaten for 17 hours or so, take my advice and do not take a walk along your local high street. Just don’t. Earlier I went up Walthamstow Market. Big mistake. Until today I had no idea just how many fast food outlets there are up there. I know exactly how many there are now because I smelt each and every one of them individually. Pizza, burgers, kebabs, pie and mash, curries, Chinese, Portugese, Caribbean, candy floss; with each step my nostrils were filled with another tantalising aroma. It had me salivating like a cartoon dog, leaving a trail of dribble the length of the market. I’ve never known hunger like it. I nearly tried to suck the sustenance out of a discarded cherry stone. A good minute and a half was spent drooling over a bundle of plastic mop handles. Wondering if there was any nutritional value in air I greedily gulped the breeze outside a fried chicken joint. If I learnt anything it’s that going without food doesn’t just make you hungry, it makes you directionless. Without mealtimes the day has no structure. I am adrift in a barren desert of time bereft of all landmarks.