We bought new pillows yesterday at Costco. They're the heavily and falsely advertised* pillows that claim to give you the best night's sleep you've ever had. Even though it was my idea to buy them, I told Karen that I expected to hate them. They COMPLETELY exceeded my expectations. I not only hate the lumpy unsupportive pillows, I hate myself for buying them in the first place. I just finished (because I wasn't sleeping, what with lumps of pillow jabbing my neck) A Gentleman in Moscow, it was funny as horrible things happened mostly somewhere else and sad things happened everywhere. So, even though written by an American, to me, (full disclosure: I'm also an American) it seemed quintessentially* Russian. Now I'm reading When Breath Becomes Air. So far, it's not funny at all. But, it does score high on the sadness scale. Here's an example, it was published posthumously.
**5 times regular essential