Manuscript-copying monks were not entirely happy with their job of producing beautiful illuminated documents.
And they scribbled about it in the margins.
Lapham's Quarterly quotes a few. "Thank God, it will soon be dark," wrote one.
"Oh, my hand!" a discontented fellow complained. "I am very cold. I've written the whole thing -- for Christ's sake, give me a drink!"
Another was even more explicit. "Writing is excessive drudgery," he griped. "It crooks your back, it dims your sight, it twists your stomach and your sides."
Luckily, none of them could see into the lamplit, computer driven future.