Bitter at the Gym

So, I am in the process of finding a decent man to buy me dinner and make sweet, sweet, s-n-m with me. I joined a gym in order to attract the right kind of man. One that I find attractive, has money (for the hotel suites, honey I don't F*** where I sleep), and isn't a complete douche bag. While at the gym today I thought to my self, "self, how much do I weigh," boy was that the worst thing I could think. Next thing I know I find myself on the scale, and what happened next wasn't pretty. Lets just say 8 pounds over the initial 30 pounds I already knew were extra.
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So my reverse body dysmorphia has reached an all time high. I have never felt sexier, or more confident. But this fat gut isn't going to attract the right kinda guy. There will be NO: comb overs, republicans, recent divorcee's, fatties, jobless, without a car, scrubs of any kind, under 5ft 10in, or any type of loser. So time for this fatty to get serious. Otherwise I see a grateful comb over guy with a mid life crisis Miata in my future, and that is too bleak for me.