At the best of times, I am not the most patient of people. This was not the best of times. I was cold, wet, and hungry. I was tired– exhausted, even. I had watched a weekend that was supposed to be a welcome shred of rest go from bad to worse to something so unfathomably, irredeemably ridiculous that I could feel the hysteric laughter bubbling up the back of my throat. If someone said I looked like I was at the end of my rope, I would inform them that my rope had snapped sometime last week. Or I’d just cut to the chase and bite their head off.
Sometimes it’s just fun to write Miranda. Okay, scratch that. It’s usually a whole lot of fun to write Miranda. And the bit above is no exception. There’s a certain catharsis to getting inside her head when she’s about ready to start (or finish?) a fight, and if you said that might reveal more about me than anything else, I’d smile and shrug and admit that you’re probably right. And then I’d remind you that that’s half of what makes it so much fun.
F.A. Hakimian 
Hmm… As to revealing more about you, I have to admit it took me a while to realize this was an excerpt and not a statement about your week. 😉
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See, I feel like I should put on some show of being insulted, but… I was mildly concerned when I was writing the post that it would be taken that way.
And.
Well.
I might have been thinking similar things at a couple points this week, only to realize that the voice in my head sounded a lot like Miranda. So…
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