Another letter: weariness-inspired

I have a problem. Just a small one, really, but it is a problem. I just ate the most delicious lunch. That, however, is not the problem. The problem is that I am now overcome with weariness. It's like there are little weights attached to each of the eyelashes on my top eyelid. This makes it very difficult to be in the office. And then there's the fact that my (rather large) mouth keeps gaping open to suck in large quantites of air (I think they call it a 'yawn'). My problem has prompted another letter. It may not get me anywhere, but writing it might help me stay awake.

Dear Superintendant of Large Building in which I work,

While I do realise that our prior communcations may not have been the most pleasant, I hope you will spare me a moment. Thank you, by the way, for eventually replacing the door handle into our office, finally allowing us to get rid of the makeshift-screwdriver-door-opening-contraption. I do apologise for the honey on both your office door handle, and car, for that whole week-and-a-half, but after my fifth request was ignored, I had no choice but to resort to more serious measures. Water under the bridge though, I hope? It certainly is for me. They say honey is very good for the skin, too, so I hope you had beautiful soft hands after that whole palava...

Back to my reason for writing. I have a small request to make, which I think might be in the best interests of, well, everybody. I'm sure that you, like the rest of us, enjoy your lunch hour to the full and indulge in the delights served up to us in the canteen (the stew today was good, didn't you think? Admittedly, my mother makes a better one). Thing is, after such delights, one tends to get a little weary. My suggestion is this: I think you should install a bed in each office. Just for a short afternoon nap. Nothing fancy, just a plain wooden base, nice mattress (back health is so very important). I'd be happy to shop around and send you prices because I'm sure you don't have time to do that, what with going to lunches and meetings and looking importantly busy or busily important.

I suggest we bring our own linen because, I don't know about you, but, personally, I'd rather not share bed linen with my office mates. We could put name tags on them, like at boarding school, and send them down to the laundry, when necessary.

Let me know what you think. There's no rush, but it'd be great to hear back from you today, then I could get started on shopping around, and choosing linen.

Love,
Shiny x

P.S. Shall I bring you some of my Mum's stew for lunch tomorrow? It really is very good. And it doesn't contain any honey - I do remember how vociferous you were about honey.

I wonder if he'll think it's a good idea?