Guilty pleasures – we all have them, especially when we’re in the midst of an essay crisis and there are no legitimate pleasures to enjoy, like going out with friends. Guilty pleasures get us through the worst of Cambridge days, and, although in the long-term they might not be the best habits (side effects may include poor health and/or degree failure), in the short-term they are the perfect antidotes to the Cambridge bubble. 

Buzzfeed quizzes are my ultimate procrastination tool. I don’t want to think about how many hours I have spent hunched over my laptop in the library ostensibly looking studious, but in reality reading about what my favourite McDonald’s order says about me. I’d rather not speak about the results – they’re not very sympathetic to chicken nugget lovers. Thanks to these quizzes, I now know that my answer to ‘what emoticon are you?’ is the sarcastic side eye, and that, if I were a supermodel, I would be Naomi Campbell. I have also discovered, though, that I am significantly more ‘basic bitch’ than hipster, a bit of a problem considering I study Social Anthropology and everyone else is edgier than a dodecahedron (that’s a three-dimensional solid with twelve flat faces, in case you're wondering – the fact that I know this tells you a lot about me).

Now that I’ve used the Buzzfeed quiz to find out which Kardashian is my soul sister (it’s Khloe, thank god), I can go onto my next guilty pleasure: watching trashy TV until I get a warning email from IT about my internet usage. It’s so clichéd, I know, but honestly there is nothing better than getting back into bed around midday and binge-watching old episodes of One Tree Hill until you forget about your own love life dramas/impending essay deadlines/mean supervisors who are out to get you, and lose yourself in the glory days of Chad Michael Murray.

If I’m going to be binge-watching TV all day, I obviously need to binge-eat at the same time so as to wreak maximum damage on all areas of my life. When I’m stressed, I have some weird childhood reversion and struggle to eat grown-up food like vegetables and stuff that doesn’t have at least thirty e-numbers. Angel delight is disgusting, yes, in the sense that it is a questionable powder to which you add milk and then it solidifies – kind of shady. But it’s also delicious, easy to make and definitely nutritious (what?), so whip up a pack, or three, of butterscotch and take it to bed with you. I have a dedicated drawer in my bedside table for my emergency angel delight supply (my socks got relegated to a shoebox), and I promise it’s worth it.

Now that I have bared my soul to you all, it’s time to take another Buzzfeed quiz to find out whether I have a problem with over-sharing and then break out the Angel delight – I think another marathon of One Tree Hill is on the horizon.