Wednesday, August 5, 1987
235 pounds

Tomorrow we’re having company for dinner. Company for dinner. Three words that fill me with happy anticipation—and, at the same time, fill me with foreboding. You see, I am a marvelous cook. I think I have magic fingers. Everything I touch turns out incredibly delicious. It is almost impossible for me to whip up a batch of anything without eating half the dough and another half of the finished product. Therefore, when company comes, and I make some of my yummiest recipes, I delight in the eating but burn in hell over the resulting extra calories. However, when I plan ahead and commit myself to no nibbles, telling Allen to monitor me, I do pretty well.

Today I make my stand against the temptations and horrors of tomorrow. I will not eat one piece of my divine homemade bread or one spoonful of potato salad. I will not eat a bite of cake or lick one dab of frosting off my fingers. I will have a green salad with low-calorie dressing, Sugar Free Jell-O, and that is all.