Today is the day. Phase One of my South Beach Diet is over. I can now start eating most fruits and whole-grain breads and chocolate again. It is like getting a new lease on life. I just found a way to make a low-carb/low-sugar peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but as disgusting as it was, it was ambrosia after a two-week drought. To date, I have lost three percent body fat, and I have another percentage or two to go until I reach my goal. Yay me!

In other news, I am making my third try today to get a new driver’s license. If I cannot make it work this time, I am going to give up entirely and purchase that flying carpet I have had my eye on.

And in still other news, I had to call my insurance company today to get authorization to continue my psychotherapy into two thousand four. They have a separate number for mental health patients, as if they want to separate us from the herd. A message came up, however, that hold times were much longer than usual. This is just the confirmation I need that people are going crazy at a more alarming rate these days.

But the hold music was soothing.

And last but not least, just when I had given up on the American population as hopelessly under the sway of advertising, I saw a nice bit of graffiti down in the subway yesterday. On a Steve Madden poster, one of those featuring a character with an oversized extremities, someone penciled in: “I may be a disproportionate freak, but aren’t my shoes cool?”

That is going to be my mantra for the new year.