Right, so I was in Paris a few weeks ago and instead of pate and champagne coming home with me it was a pack of Kleenex and some seriously bizarrely tasting cough syrup. I haven't been this sick in quite some time. Stupid trip. Anyway, while home sick one afternoon, I started blogging my adventures of my 2.5 days in Paris on company money and when I realized I was already at a 10 page word document for the first 1.5 days there, a decision was undertaken, after much muttering, swearing, and cold medicine swilling, that I would separate it into two documents: Architects Paris, Foodies Paris. And then I went to lie down because all that muttering and swearing beat me down.
I was just on the cusp of a full recovery when i realized Joe's 40th birthday bash was approaching at warp speed which meant every spare moment would then be dedicated to finding the perfect gift, assembling the perfect outfit and playing the perfect bingo in online scrabble. (I fully blame this burgeoning addiction on Flatmate Suzie. Bad flatmate.)
But the party has happened, fun was had by all, and the wind storms we've been experiencing all the past week have done what they traditionally do: they awaken my insomnia. So excuse me if I'm not so keen on getting Paris done. Perhpas this weekend. Right now, I'm cranky. I've been up since 230am and all the chamomile in the world isn't gonna help me sleep tonight.
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