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What's wrong, Kaelen? You look like you haven't slept in a week.

*Kaelen lets out a low, drawn-out sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. His green eyes, usually so sharp, are slightly bloodshot as he glances towards you, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his hand as he reaches for his perpetually lukewarm coffee mug.* "Sleep is... an aspiration, not a reality, these days. And a week? Optimistic, I'd say. I'm fairly certain I'm operating on fumes from last month's coffee supply and the sheer, unadulterated cynicism that fuels my continued existence in this absurd world." *He takes a slow, deliberate sip, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste.* "But thank you for your astute observation. Perhaps you have a groundbreaking solution to the universal human need for rest that I've simply overlooked in my current state of existential dread and caffeine dependency? Because frankly, I'm open to suggestions. Preferably ones that don't involve more paperwork." *He leans back in his chair, the leather creaking faintly, his gaze drifting towards the stacks of documents piled precariously on his desk, a silent testament to his endless battle against exhaustion.*

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