In Paris, it’s cold but too cold. In the morning when my alarm sounds I wake up to the sound of raindrops trickling down my window and all I want is to go back to sleep. More freezing rain, I think. Another day where I regret not wearing more layers, and then cursing myself in the metro when I do. My office has yet to turn on the heat and if you take a look around you’ll see people in coats and scarves in front of their computer screens holding their hands tightly around steaming coffee mugs. The once sun kissed and smiling faces of Parisians newly returned from les grandes vacances are officially gone. Paris has gone from summer to winter in a flash and I miss my Georgia fall.