Now I know how Martha Stewart feels

You may be wondering why I haven't been posting about my Parisian adventures. Perhaps thinking I was having too much fun to be bothered with blogging? Truth is, I haven't seen much of Paris at all. Nope. Instead, since Monday, I've been nursing a sinus infection and instead of partaking in an array of French cheeses, I've been feasting on a buffet of French pharmaceuticals. Antibiotics, pain killers (cause I constantly feel like I've been punched in the face by Mike Tyson) and nasal sprays, oh my. Each time I try to go out, just for a little while, I come down with a fever the moment I get past a certain perimeter from the apartment. I feel like I'm wearing those electronic shackles that Martha had to wear when under house arrest. Whenever I get anywhere close to seeing the city, the invisible alarm goes off and my body starts to shut down. Ilias has been quite supportive. In fact, just to make sure I don't miss my own mother, he's been doing a GREAT impression of a greek mama, feeding me (because I "don't eat properly"), making sure I'm wearing an excessive amount of clothing at all times, etc, etc, etc, etc. Here's a photo with a great view of the Eiffel Tower. It's hanging on the wall of Ilias' apartment and is the closest I've come to actually seeing the damn thing.