And what is your current complaint?"

I don't like Barrayar, I want to go home, my father-in-law wants to murder my baby, half my friends are running for their lives, and I can't get ten minutes alone with my husband, whom you people are consuming before my eyes, my feet hurt, my head hurts, my soul hurts...

It was all too complicated. The poor man just wanted something to put in his blank, not an essay.

"Fatigue," Cordelia managed at last.

Autore: Lois McMaster Bujold