I've turned to Wodehouse (or O. Henry or Saki, others of his ilk) in the past for that same purpose, and although I've abandoned Liquorice Allsorts since I had the misfortune one day to catch a glimpse of their calorie-count and salt-content, 70% chocolate has an inexplicable allure after a day of work, housework and playing with Pink & Blue Daughters, so that I frequently find myself in front of the baking ingredient cupboard on the way to the wine rack, even though it's not on the way to the wine rack.
Not that I drink, or eat anything with sugar in it.
And then there is blog-reading, of course. The breathless excitement of the giveaways isn't good for my weak heart, but, those aside, the waves of images and opinions and fascinations wash over me like a soothing sea. It's a wonder Polly Devlin didn't ring me and I'd have told her that.