1:47 a.m. Remember that diet I was going to start today? Well, how about tomorrow? Tomorrow sounds like a good day to start. Today didn't turn out to be the exact, the exact right day, you know?

For one thing, I need my strength. I'm working long hours, you know. I need lots and lots of protein and a certain amount of nonpareils each and every day. Today was just such a day. There was a nice leftover filet mignon in the fridge, sitting in a perfectly marvelous purée of spinach and garlic mashed potatoes. You can't start a diet with a doggie styrofoam in the fridge.

And then there is the delicate matter of my age. I'm no longer in the monster truck competition category. No matter how many pounds I manage to lose, I will not have to line up in 5-inch killer heels and smear vasoline on my teeth and smile and name my favorite charity for a twinkly tiara and a shiny sash. I am out of the race, out of the running, out of the picture. I have age on my side.

The most I can hope for is "still attractive," which, frankly isn't enough of an incentive to starve.

And there's a foggy, smudged line I keep erasing and moving up and down and back a notch. If I maintain good posture, maybe I can have some butter. If I ignore the mirror on the back of the bedroom door, maybe I can have some toast and jam. How about if I don't really care? Bring on the burgers.

Ah, but I do still care. I have a closet full of clothing I like and I'm reaching the outer limits of my jeans. I learned the hard way the last time -- never, ever (ever ever ever) buy bigger sizes. Comfort is fleeting. Yeah, you might have a zippertooth tattoo on your tummy for a time, but the long road back down the marshmallow mountain is steep and painful, and altogether degrading if you're wearing huge clown pants.

Ok, so tomorrow it is. Bright shiny tomorrow, the land of all hopes and dreams. The place where grand plans are projected ... a place substantial as a rainbow. Always receding, mirage-like, just out of reach. It's a good place to store things. And it's the perfect place to start this diet that will never fail because in Tomorrowland, I am a perfect person who never gets hungry.

But tonight, tonight.

Living in the here and now takes a certain amount of courage and courage builds up an appetite. It takes a lot of whipped cream to face reality. Here it is, well past three in the morning and now I just had a big mug of hot chocolate because tonight I needed a little boost, a little pick-me-up to hurl me into tomorrow.

Where I will surely go on a diet.