PMS

Sara has it bad right now.

It's not about cramps and feeling bloated though...the exact opposite actually. The only similarity between Sara's current mood and premenstrual syndrome is the propensity to fly off the handle over just about anything. Even Greek yogurt.

Sara asked me to take her to get yogurt.

Sara asked me to take her to get yogurt.

I'm in for a long night because she wants to remember what it's like to be human. We both fill a bowl with yogurt, choose our toppings (I'm particularly fond of flaxseeds), and sit down. We stare at the bowls in silence until she politely says, "You first."

She's smiling, but we both know where this is going. Watching me eat froyo will remind her of three things: she's a vampire, she's still pissed at me, and worst of all...she's hungry.

I just want to get this over with, so I take a spoonful of my dessert. Before it touches my lips, she unleashes a banshee wail and flips the 200-pound, wooden table across the room.

I call this PMS -- Pre-Meal Syndrome. It's the vampiric equivalent of hangry. Unfortunately, a Snickers isn't gonna cut it.

People are staring at us. I'd tell them to run but that would give them hope.

It's gonna be a long night.

JS