'Commit to the cake, man.'

That's a line from a recent Private Practice episode, and because I've just been recording shows lately I have no idea which week it is (the Indians have been taking precedence over my television shows). I love this line though. Paul is trying to get out of dressing up like a fairy and playing with little girls to find out what is making their sister sick. Dell, in his young wisdom, explains how men have to figure out what women want, no matter what their age is, and then give it to them. “Commit to the cake, man.” It's brilliant, really.

If only men could really do this, all the women in the world would have thinner waists, better skin, beautiful hair, a perfect weight of 125, and legs and pits they'd never have to shave ever again, all thanks to the men who have figured it out and delivered. But women want the impossible, much to the chagrin of men.

I'm no different. I'd love to have a thinner waist (or at least my paunch gone), better hair, and legs and pits I'd never have to shave again. But in reality I'd love to just have a to-do list that actually is doable during the workday and doesn't continue to grow with every moment that passes. I'd love to have all these courses completed so I wouldn't have them held over my head anymore. I'd love to come home to a loving man every night. I'd love ... well, a lot of things.

But until that happens I'll survive. I'll make the to-do list, study my notes, and after shedding tears of stress I'll suck it up (not the list physically) and I'll get it done. I'll come home alone every night with the hope that someday I won't have to. And while I'm not a cake girl, I do love M&Ms, strawberry wafer cookies and Diet Lipton Green Tea Citrus flavored.

At least with those I know I'll make it.