It is all just too bad.

 Strange things happened this morning.The party after the reading went on until two, when it turned out that there was a key to the studio missing. Agreed to stay on until the end to lock up the studio.

A small flock of young people came into the studio, they played guitars and some smoked dope. Hash is legal now in small quantities.

At two thirty it was time to go home. Turned off all of the lights and locked the doors.

On the way to the bridge the artist wheeled his bicycle. He seemed to be having motor difficulties coupled with an unusual lack of stability. At the point by the river where separate ways were usually taken, saw that he was in considerable difficulties. Took his bicycle and walked with him to the traffic junction at the bridge. He took his bike and fell over it. Suggested forcefully that he was barely able to walk and simply not able to ride a bike. Offered to wheel the bike and keep him company to the bridge by the power plant.

He agreed.

Once there he took his bike and somehow entangled himself in it and both of them fell down. Pointed out to him that if this had been a wrestling match then the bike would now have won. A passer by asked if help was needed, but thanked him and said no. At this point it was clear that he would have to use his feet to go home and allow his bicycle to be wheeled. Just before the main road he lost his balance and in a sort of staggering run ran out to the middle of the road and sprawled there with his face on the tarmac surface. His glasses were on the road. Picked up the  glasses and then realised that the man was unconscious and snoring loudly. This was in the middle of major road, incredibly busy during the day. There is no traffic there at three in the morning. This is lucky. Two young male persons come by and ask whether or not the man is drunk. Say that he is. They look doubtful and then move on.

He returns to consciousness and help him stand. He asks where he is. Tell him that he is nearly home. He agrees, and we go there.

His friend answers the doorbell. She is worried and really quite annoyed. Lock up his bicycle in front of his doorway.

On the way home realise that his glasses are still in the coat pocket. Return with the glasses, give them to his friend, and then walk home to arrive at half past three.

Get up at ten and dress, go to the post office to collect the package. Upon arrival see that there is a note on the heavy metal roller blind. It says that the post office is closed today.

It is all just too bad.