Last night's measurements of the blood pressure led to an emergency dose of the stuff that the doctor ordered. Went to bed and slept, the telephone sounded at two in the morning and the son explained his plan to buy a ticket to fly back home earlier from Ireland. That would mean that he could deal with the various problems with his studies. Agree with him and chat another while.
Then, just for the sake of curiosity, measure the blood pressure. It has never been so low, start to wonder when this could be fatal. Lie down and think about it. Fall asleep, thinking about this. Wake in the morning feeling weakly. Rest for a while, then go downstairs, and have breakfast. Deal with a certain amount of mail, and write to the other party to the planned trip to Ireland. We both wonder whether or not it would be worth spending the night in Saarlouis. The place has a nice sounding name, but who knows what else it would be good for.
At midday, go out and try on a few jackets in a nearby shop. Find that one is quite attractive, but then decide to leave it. There are too many expenses every day at the moment.
Then go to the artists studio and carry on with the classification of all the pictures.
It is a lot of work.
Go home in the evening, have a bowl of muslin. There is no real hunger at all, no appetite.
Listen to the groups of young people in the street, all in high spirits now that it is evening.
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