I'm Only Wearing Sweatpants From Now Until May

Since moving in one month ago, Joe has lost 5.5 lbs.  I, on the other hand, have been bloated, my jeans are increasingly tightening, and I can't be sure since I refuse to weigh myself, but it's probable that I have gained 17.6 lbs in 30 days.  That is how I feel. 

The problem is that we've been cooking together almost every day, which I absolutely adore, but the richness of this diet is catching up to me.  Joe makes scrambled eggs with veggies, toast with butter, and bacon or chicken sausage for breakfasts.  Dinners have been homemade marinara with meatballs slowly simmered for four hours, chicken piccata with green beans and buttermilk mashed potatoes, pappa al pomodoro with a toasted crumbled crouton pancetta basil garnish, red beans and rice with andouille sausage, fish with a dijon lemon cream sauce, etc., etc., delicious etc. 

I used to only keep water and milk in the fridge for hydration and calcium purposes, since I have a firm belief that all other beverages only add calories and are a waste of money when water is all you need.  Joe, however, loves variety in his beverages and my fridge is now stocked with ginger ale, orange juice, and apple juice in family-size quantities.  My water intake has significantly decreased.

Joe's diet has gotten considerably healthier compared to his bachelor if it's fried and dipped in gravy and covered in hot sauce and I can wash it down with beer I will eat it days.  Mine on the other hand has increased greatly in richness and quantity, further suffering from the fact that I live with a man who actually goes willingly on ice cream runs.  Do you know how many times I've dreamed of being able to merely speak my desire for ice cream only to have someone immediately go fetch it, take the lid off, and hand it to me with a spoon?  Having my dream realized is now slowly killing me. 

It's also making me incredibly self-conscious and uncomfortable as the wearable items in my closet slowly decrease.  Last night I got a lime popsicle out of the freezer.  I looked at Joe as I removed the wrapper and he was looking at me.

"Are you judging me for having a popsicle?"

"No."

"Then why are you looking at me?"

"I wasn't looking at you.  You were looking at me."

"How do you know I was looking at you if you weren't looking at me?"

"..."

"I'm going to the bedroom to eat my popsicle."

"Okay."

"IT'S ONLY 60 CALORIES!"

Mmhmm, that happened.  Perfectly normal and healthy, Christina.

Also, this:

"What did you buy?"

"Snacks."

"More ginger ale?  And snack mix?  And Pringles?  Seriously?"

"I like drinks!  I got the organic snack mix!  And the Pringles are MULTI GRAIN!"

Dude's trying to compromise. 

We went to the gym together yesterday.  Sixty minutes on the elliptical later and the realization that I have to figure out a way to converge our different dietary needs.  I know how to cook healthy, that's not the problem.  I just have to cook now to satisfy two people.  Brown rice and broiled fish and roasted veggies just isn't going to satisfy Joseph.  And why should it?  He can eat like this and still lose weight.  Since moving in together means I'm practically contractually obligated not to hate him, I'll have to figure out how to cook in a way that makes us both feel good.

Especially since now that we're adding gym time to his routine, I'm pretty sure Joe will be losing 20 lbs in as many days and it's going to be so, so, so hard not to really, really, really hate him.