EDIT: I re-wrote the majority of it. Now it's longer and more elaborate.

Bella was feeling depressed.
Her so called Lord was being a downright arse lately, and it was messing with her.
She couldn't get into a proper frenzy of bloodlust with him keeping her awake every hour of the night. He was so loud. He never stopped, every single night. Each morning she was exhausted and hoarse from the screaming.
Dear reader, I now instruct you to take your mind and politely remove it from the gutter.

It was that God Damn tap dancing. He was incessant, and no matter how much she screamed at him to shut up, he would just continue. Voldemort jete'd and piqued, chinne'd and sashayed. Every DAMN night. He wasn't even good at it, the steps had no order or rhythm. He was just so fucking excited to have a body and be able to dance again, while Bellatrix groped around her bedside table for her wand so she could try yet another silencing charm. Nothing seemed to be working, she had already tried 3. She was faithful to him, and she would even go as far as to say she loved him, but this was ridiculous.
She would spend time in Azkaban for doing his bidding and wait for him.
She would go out to get him lunch.
But she wouldn't stand for this any longer.
Of course, she also wouldn't say anything to him. That would be suicide. For all she knew he was on his period, he could do anything. It was entirely possible that he would have a diva tantrum and kill her (very dramatically) on the spot.

She had tried all the things that normally cheered her up, like raiding a house of Mudbloods and torturing some muggles, but she was so tired and upset that they just didn't give her the pleasant rush of adrenaline they should have.
Bella had found some brief enjoyment on a muggle contraption called a computer. It seemed to be a book of infinite knowledge. I had plenty of moving pictures, and would even talk to you on command.
It was brief, however, because her one month trial to a red page had run out and she could no longer watch the colorful horses with tattoos on their rears. That was probably part of what was getting her down, the animals' antics were quite amusing.
All in all, the past few weeks had been bloody awful. Absolute shit.

She needed to get drunk.