Last night, we lost a valuable member of our household, a super high thread count fitted sheet. You see, I hung it and a its partner, the top sheet, out back to dry and when I went to take them both in the fitted sheet was nowhere to be found. There should be a word for this feeling, the feeling one has when they walk over to their clothesline and an article of clothing is missing. And then there should be a word for what one feels when they look down and see it lying there, dead, attracting bugs, dirt and neighborhood cat poop.
I had similar feelings this morning when I dropped my expensive espresso beans all over the floor and swept them up, along with a pound of dog hair.
oh, that sounds tasty!