(no subject)
Dear Head,
I understand that you're unhappy, but please consider this: your griping and aching is causing me to lose sleep, causing me to stress out about not being up in time tomorrow, causing your problems to get worse. You aren't helping yourself. Please, listen to reason and give me a break. You're supposed to be the smart one, damnit!
Dear Stomach,
You do, admittedly, have the excuse of being notoriously unsophisticated in your reasoning, and lower expectations than those applied to Head. But still. Joining in at one in the morning to demand tribute? Not. Cool. At all.
Sincerely,
Pivot (Y'know, the person you're supposed to be working for?)