Everything I Loved in August

Hospital comforts, rental-friendly decor, lessons from babies, and a lovely gift

Aug 31, 2025

∙ Paid

Adam Grant calls it “a book to fight brain rot” :)

Hello, Beloveds!

It’s nice to settle back here after an eventful few weeks. And by eventful, I mean that I drank my first margarita in 9 months:

I wouldn’t say I’ve gotten into a rhythm yet with a newborn; the intricacies defy norms, musical or otherwise, like free jazz or Brian Eno soundscapes. But I’ve become a little more familiar with my new life, I suppose by which I mean I now know what day it is. And I know it’s the end of August!

As usual, I’m dewy-eyed and sentimental as I always am at the close of an east coast summer that stretches out so far past its natural limits in July, then too-quickly recoils the next month.

Ahem, allow me to quote myself, from my last book:

For many creative people, regret and longing is what we live for. We love limitations, especially the wistful ones. August is a three-week foreign love affair that you can't bring back home. August is a beautiful person who just got off the subway, or a tomato whose prime you may miss by a couple of hours. August is a sunset, a Sunday, the last hour of the best party.
It is one of my favorite months. Every year, like clockwork, I begin to see summer's charms when its days are numbered. I get preemptively nostalgic for the nights that feel as plump and sultry as an overripe plum, and I begin to miss the sundresses I haven't even worn yet. It's like living the last days of a relationship you know is about to end, and there's magic in that ache.

In other words, it’s a please-punch-me time of year.

Here’s what I loved during this (slightly past prime) tomato month:

Being totally nuts

Last week I texted my friend that the baby was getting fussy.

I was feeling faintly desperate as I wrote this, very much hoping that she in her more advanced motherly wisdom would reply “Oh that will go away forever in exactly two days” or “That’s surely the sign of a genius” or with a link to a miracle remedy that would instantly cure both baby and mom fussiness.

Instead, she wrote back,

Out of the Blue