To diet or not to diet, that is the question

I stopped writing this months since, I thought, nobody reads it, why bother but then occasionally somebody does and anyway, maybe it's good for me. As I get older I worry  more about what is good for me which is why I got up this morning, remembered the amount of wine I drank last night and the heaviness of the meal - it was only lemon thyme chicken and a couple of small pieces of cheese, but hey, I was determined to have a bad morning so I did.
I made myself go on the scales. Well, and isn't that the worst thing. it never makes you feel better unless you are eating cardboard and drinking water and that's enough to make anybody upset.
So I thought I won't have toast and jam for breakfast. I had half a grapefruit.
My lovely gardener came to sort out the flowers and cut the lawn and I thought I will make myself a very healthy lunch so I proceeded to make tomato soup, simple, just tomatoes and olive oil and stock but then Elizabeth David said that you need this amazing thing to go with it that bakes in the oven so I duly drenched my two supposedly healthy brown spelt bread slices in butter, slathered them in parmesan and stuck them in the oven.
Then I had to wait so I thought a small glass of fizzy won't hurt so I sat there in my summerhouse and read the Times and did the quick crossword - or tried to and listened to Radio 3 and when I went back and took the crostini or whatever from the oven, it smelled fantastic.
Two big bowls of soup and two lots of whatever it is and a small glass of white wine I was finished. Had to go to bed.
It's now nine in the evening and I am eating salmon with potatoes and salad because having eaten virtually nothing for breakfast and gone mad at lunchtime I am now not that hungry.  I have left off the Hollandaise sauce which usually covers the salmon, so it tastes dry and I don't really want it but I am now two glasses of wine down and if I don't eat that won't be good for me so I'm struggling here and I couldn't help but think that if I had stuck to my slice of toast and jam for breakfast, had a small lunch and not collapsed in the middle of the day and had Hollandaise with my dinner I would be all the better now.  Too late. The salad is thankfully laced with decent olive oil and garlic. Just make sure I don't bump into anybody I know tomorrow of if we embrace they will asphyxiate.
The point of all this is that if I hadn't worried about having put on three pounds I would have had a better day.
The whole thing is ridiculous. I'm beginning wish I had been born sooner, despite bad contraception, the idea that cabbage was a good vegetable and a woman's place was in the home. These days a woman's place is bloody everywhere. I'm not convinced it's an improvement. Nobody ever told my mother she drank too much gin. I can't find anybody to drink with. Please apply here. Nobody eats any more, nobody drinks any more. Nobody dances any more. We have sunk into a Puritan hell.
I have now given up on the salmon and potatoes. It's going in the bin.  And I don't bloody care and I am having another glass of wine and when I get up in the morning I am going back to toast and jam. So there!!