low pressure

 Carry the big blue sack with the eight packages to the post office. The son has come along too, he wants to go for a coffee later on. This is all very pleasant. Take the packages into the post office, the postmaster looks astonished as more and more small packages come out of the big blue refuse sack, then he points his barcode reader at all of the labels. The son helps him with one of the fallen packages. And when all is done, he prints out a small reciept. There are only seven items listed, because one was classified as a small package. This is not listed with a tracking code. And that is the second load of bits and pieces all sold, things that are not needed any more.

Decide to go to the café in the Neustadt Street today. It is only a small café but it used to be the sons favourite. Things are different now. The person who used to run the place has now gone into retirement, and her replacement is young and in some way incompetent.

And the coffee is the worst ever. The filter machine has kept the brew warm for what must be most of the day. And still they want one Euro ninety for a black brew with notes of burnt rubber and car oil. Such badness is seldom reached. So bad that it is not even worth complaining about.

Go back down the Altstadt Street and visit the drugstore. The son buys some chalk, he needs this for one of his projects.

And on the way down to the river it starts to rain.  This will not be a day for long walks. At home, lie down, there is a strange feeling of drowsiness. After an hour, take a blood pressure reading. The machine says ninety over sixty. A new appointment with the doctor will be needed. Low blood pressure may be better than high blood pressure, but surely high blood pressure is better than no blood pressure.