BOOK FOUR: PARIS
Grabbing the box of tissues, I groan when I realised I've grabbed the last one. Ugh. Somehow I've gone through a fresh box in the last six hours, and my nose is still flowing like the Nile River.
This flu is ghastly. I have a clown red nose; my voice is so hoarse and raspy that I think I have become a man. Given how hectic my schedule has been over the last three weeks, I'm not surprised that I look like I'm two shades away from being a living corpse.
To say I have been busy is a massive understatement, which has clearly taken a toll on my body. Ever since I came home from Bangkok, the enquiries have been flooding in. There was a wedding in Bali five weeks ago, one in New Zealand this past week, and one in Fiji coming up in two weeks. I think I'm starting to get the
