I guess I never realized how much influence a pillow can have over a person's emotional state. Our old pillows really weren't beyond hope. They were not torn to shreds by the dogs. They were not ripped the way our first and second fitted sheets ripped (Clark, somehow). They were not peed on by a foster puppy, or burned, or moldy. They were still quite functional.
But they were all several years old, flat as a pancake, and extremely yellow. They all had a distinct odor... not strong or unpleasant, but slightly musty. I'd attempted to wash one of them, and it came out of the machine as a lumpy, shapeless mutant. From then on the pillow was treated like the nerdy kid at tryouts, unwanted and rejected until there were no other options.
Last night, while changing the sheets, I became aware of my mental state as I peeled the pillowcases off. As if on automatic pilot, I put the case in the hamper and headed for the trash to throw the pillow away. It took me several moments of silence before I realized what I was doing, and a few more minutes to come to a conclusion: time for new pillows.
This morning we went to Target and bought two new pillows. They fill the pillowcases completely, like fat balloons. I spent the rest of the day dreaming about them. Tonight we get to try them out, and I can't be happier.
Update: The pillows were nicer to sleep on than I ever imagined. They weren't that expensive, but worth every penny. A cheap and effective treatment for the "blahs".