Shrink Yo'Self in 2012 Week 3: Warning: F-bombs ahead

I need to preface this post by stating there WILL be profanity.  A lot of it.  So, if you are sensitive to that sort of thing, I suggest you stop reading now. (Yep, Dad, if you are reading today, you might want to stop. Love you!)

Since I've found myself back on the weight loss bandwagon and have joined the latest challenge over at The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans, Wednesdays have once again become my "weigh-in day".  Now, if you know me at all, you know I'm scale obsessed and can't just weigh in once a week, but that's the subject for another post.  (BUT - I will say I have not been on the scale since Sunday morning.) So, today like the good little doobie I am, I got up, peed (duh), stripped down (double duh), and hopped on this evil little bitch:

FUCK!!!!! I'm up another .4?!?! What the FUCK?!?!

I am so fucking pissed right now that I can't even see straight.  I don't fucking get it.  Seriously.  I'm sitting at my desk trying to get my composure because I have students coming to see me in 15 minutes, but I needed to get this post written.  If you read my post yesterday, you know that I've totally stepped up my running again, added strength training, lowered my daily calories, and I'm tracking my food (granted, I only started tracking on Saturday, but still, I'm doing it).  In the 3 weeks of this challenge, I've managed to have a net gain of .6 pounds.  You're probably sitting there thinking, "What's the big deal? It's only 1/2 a pound."  The problem is, it's 1/2 a pound on top of the 10 I've gained since October.  Since Christmas I've gained 5.  My clothes don't fucking fit right.  Today, I'm wearing an outfit for the first time that I got for Christmas.  It's Banana Republic, so I have a HUGE problem with my very expensive pants feeling tight on my thighs. 



From this angle, I don't think I look that bad, but looking in the mirror this morning after my shower, all I wanted to do was cry.  I hate the way I look right now.  That 10 pounds on my barely 5'3" frame is A LOT of fucking weight.  I know I'm never going to have 6-pack abs or skinny legs.  I know I'm always going to have bingo wings.  It's not genetically possible for me to look like a fucking supermodel, and frankly, there's too much skin left over from carrying twins and losing over 50 pounds 8 years ago to even come close.  Unless some sugar daddy is going to come along and pay for a shit-load of cosmetic surgery, it ain't gonna happen.

What I'd like is to just fucking feel comfortable in my own skin.  To at least tolerate what I see in the mirror.  To feel cute and sexy.  Is that really too much to fucking ask?