The fact we were nibbling peanut butter on toast and reading the label on the Lurpack, not the Sunday supplements, should have been a sign.
The chat was magazines, specifically: which ones would you say you read if you were asked in an interview?
In a house full of journalists, the list should be endless. The ceilings should be collapsing around us under the weight of glossy sheets and lovingly thumbed pages.
Instead, our home is slowly disintegrating due to a heady mix of mould, slugs and a mouse called Sol, who has mysteriously disappeared, taking our wires with him.
It's true the lounge and kitchen are littered with the scruffy ends of half read newspaper supplements and the odd ELLE magazine (my last surviving subscription from sixth form days when three Waitrose shifts a week equalled a disposable income), but that's about it. Not to mention the fact most of the papers filling up the recycling are the ones we write for (cuttings ripped out, of course).
If I was honest, the ones I actually buy, and don't just flick through in Sainsbury's, are limited to the aforementioned ELLE and the odd Glamour or Company (depending on the free gift and whether it's on special). I can't afford any more.
GQ, Little White Lies, Empire, Men's Heath, Vogue etc. only find their way home with me if I've had a particularly bad day and am in desperate need of an escape hatch. Even then my bank account's conscience usually pitches in with: what's the point in buying a mag when you can trawl the website?
That's the problem you see, magazines are luxury items, and if I, someone who thinks true happiness can only really be found if you've got a stash of printed words beside you, can't muster the cash to buy 300 odd shiny pages, how can anyone else?
Hence why Eva Wiseman's column on the flailing direction of women's magazines hit such a nerve. We are all struggling with the economic drama, and the things that should lift us temporarily out of the gloom (pithy articles, fun interviews, ludicrous fashion) are letting us down.
I agree with Esquire's deputy editor, Mark Pomroy, that "long features that are 'about something'" are more appealing - and they make you feel like you've got your money's worth too. And yes, these work online, but there's nothing like holding a magazine in your hands in reality.
So perhaps, as Sol continues to munch through our electrics, I'll cut down on my peanut butter consumption and save up for the magazines I know will keep me interested. Some things are worth going hungry for.