Confessions of a food-whore

My guilty confession for today:

Not eating makes me Cranky. Yes, with a capital C. I love food. Really.
(Alright, I'm vegetarian and really love my hippy-food so I'm not talking junk food here, so I won't feel too bad about it. Not much junk, anyway.
Alright FINE I ate allllll the cupcakes. Happy now? Sob.)

So when there is nothing nom-ible in my nearby vicinity, and I'm feeling the needing for a feeding, I can turn into the biggest bitch this side of .... um..... a place where there are many bitches.
I feel a bitch coming on....right...about....now.

I can be happily pottering along feeling just fine all day, and generally have an "eat when I'm hungry, not cause it's dinner time" approach. But that fine feeling can morph into "MUST. FIND. FOOD. NOW" mode with a scary quickness.
Then it's every man, woman and bagel for themselves. People who know me well generally retreat to a safe distance and throw edibles at me until I'm a nicer person.

I blame low-blood sugar. Ahem.
Wonder if "Hypoglyceamia-Induced Red Mist of Rage" has ever been successfully used as a defense for murder?
Must Google.