It's 1:37 AM, and I'm a-workin', thanks in no small part to a potent mix of nonfat milk, protein powder, and ice. Plus craptons of caffeine and as much water as I can drink. Liquid nutrition is much like kickboxing--it's "the future." But man, this Diet Rockstar stuff tastes like crap. Discriminating hypoglycemic night owls prefer Monster Lo-Carb.

So obviously, I'm working hard right now. No surprise, but after a day of writing, my brain can focus on anything but the task at hand. Hell. I already have half of a film noir set in a Brentwood gym written: "And then she walked in. She was only 18, with a BMI to match...." Yeah. It's one of those nights. I'm waiting for the caffeine to kick in and provide some magic perspective that will lend that special something to my factually dead-on but zing-less case study. Until then, I'm feeling a bit like a worn-out, paranoid corporate tool, much like our young pal Ender right before he uncorked a big bottle of xenocidal whupass on the Buggers. Just started reading that yesterday, after all these years. Finished it today--not exactly a tough read. But a good one, and well worth buying for yourself or your kids.

So back to the work situation. It's almost over. And I've learned a few things, courtesy of my diverse client base:

• If I ever get prostate cancer, I'm going to LLUMC for proton therapy.
• Sarbanes-Oxley compliance is everyone's business. Especially if your portion of "everyone" happens to be the Chief Executive with his head on the block if you screw up.
• KVM-over-IP can be sexy. In a not-in-the-sense-of-actually-making-me-want-to-have-sex sort of way.

Oh yeah. I bought a can of Diet Coke Plus on the way home, thinking it might be just the liquid superfood I needed to get me through the night. I'm holding it in reserve at the moment, but I'll let you know.

The buzz has arrived. Back to work. Buggers.

UPDATE: Niacin and B6 do not belong in Diet Coke. I swear I can taste the difference, and it's not good.