A Little Help Here?

Dear Body,

I thought we were friends. I mean, I know that we've had our ups and downs over the years - you gave me an annoyingly sensitive stomach, but I suspect that's probably because I decided you needed an eating disorder for a few years. I got saddled with an anxiety problem, but I blame that mostly on genetics. You gave me crappy skin, but made up for it with really shiny hair. I will probably never have lovely nails, but I have cute boobs. You even allowed me to eat whatever I wanted for most of my teens and twenties, and so when you decided that a high metabolism wasn't in the cards for me anymore, I obliged you by exercising and eating right and lost the 15 (or 20) pounds that living in New Orleans for 3 years gave me. We were cool, Body, and I kept exercising and eating right because, well, it was only fair. So, Body, allow me to kindly ask: what the fuck? Where exactly do you get off adding ten of those pounds back without even asking? It's not like I did anything to deserve this. Maybe I didn't work out quite as much and maybe I wasn't as diligent about the calories, but that's only because I have things to do, dammit, and it's not like I went on a binging spree. But fine, I stepped it back up again, and...nothing. That seems a little unfair. Because, really, it's not as though I enjoy working out 7 days a week. I don't like counting calories and feeling vaguely hungry and cranky all day, but I do it because I thought we had a deal. You know what I mean - I work hard, you cooperate. It's a pretty simple equation. It's not like I expected results right away either. I bought special DVDs and I took measurements and I didn't even rely only on the scale, because that thing is damnably unreliable, and I even restricted my little check-ins to once per week, and still...nothing. And now I am in a bad mood every day because my clothes don't fight me properly and there is nothing pleasant about plump, and I am about done with being little Ms. Nice Girl. So, sack up, beeyotch, because I'm getting a little sick of this nonsense.

XOXO,
The Rest of Me