See, this is exactly what I'm talking about.

I had just popped a plate of left-over pasta with smoked turkey cream sauce in the microwave and was about to build up a good head of resentment about it being too cold to take my lunch break in the back yard, when I stopped for a moment to run the dark wash through another dryer cycle. And suddenly it all felt right - the sound of the dryer, my dying cat waiting on the kitchen table for scraps - George, you doofus, it's MACARONI - the food slowly spinning in the microwave. 

You never know when these moments will arrive. Part of the magic, I guess.