So often, happiness is the extent to which we balance our grandiose expectations with reality.

This is a business meal. The calories do not count. I am mentally labeling these as 'business calories' so my body will know they were eaten in the line of duty and will process them differently.

Where's my tax form? Where's the file that's supposed to hold my W-2 form and interest statement? Where's the mileage log I specifically asked be kept last year?? Where's the monthly check summary? And who's been stuffing Visa receipts in the aluminum foil drawer??!! How embarrassing. I'm surrounded by idiots and I'm the only one in the office.

Each of us wages a private battle each day between the grand fantasies we have for ourselves and what actually happens.

In the '80s, I thought I'd be a success as a woman if I were the president of a billion dollar company, had a sensitive soul-mate husband, two bilingual children, buns of steels, and a compost heap. In the '90s, I pretty much feel I'm a success if I can get through the afternoon without eating a cheesecake.

Now I'm searching for a slightly overweight, single, childless woman who doesn't have a date and isn't too depressing to be around. It's getting harder to find a girlfriend than a boyfriend.

The relationship between Cathy and Mom in the strip is the one relationship drawn from real life that I have proudly never even tried to disguise.