I've always had a pretty miserable sense of direction, but I get lost a lot in Charlotte. More than in any other city, for sure. On Friday, I needed to go to the post office (one I've been to before!), so I plugged it in to the map on my phone and followed the directions. Half an hour later, I was parked in the middle of a cul-de-sac on a dirt road. The truth is, the drive was rather pretty, and while I normally would have been irritated, I just turned around and went home.

Rob and I have both been a little under the weather over the past week. He came home early on Monday and a few days later, I started feeling kind of frail. This morning I woke up at 7:00 and it was still dark outside, and even though I had slept soundly for hours, it didn't feel that way. My throat is scratchy and my eyes are heavy. When I'm sick I like to take naps, and I haven't had one yet, so I'm thinking a chilly, dark Monday is as good a time as any to get back in bed.

I have flown through most of Lena Dunham's new book and look forward to reading more of it every day. I knew I was going to laugh but for some reason I had no idea I would cry.

Yesterday we woke up to go on a hike and it was 54 degrees and smelled exactly like fall. Crisp air, wet leaves, some campfire off in the distance. We ate these donuts and drank hot coffee on our way to the mountain and it felt exactly the way it's supposed to. Charlotte is a bit slower to fall than other places we've lived, and on Wednesday there's a high of 83 in the forecast, but the mornings are getting cooler and every night we open the windows and cuddle up under blankets until morning.


"We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other."

--Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast