I had myself an existential crisis the other day while I was cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast.
I grabbed a paper towel and started wiping off the counters (sesame seed bagels are delicious, but oh so messy). I swept the crumbs off and into my hand to dump into the garbage can. But what I thought was a particularly large crumb turned out to be a feisty black spider. A black spider that I'd just swept into my open palm.
It only took me a fraction of a second to realize that the "crumb" was moving, and just a fraction of a second more to squeak with disgust and frantically shake my hand. But that moment was enough time to sufficiently question the essence of my existence. Spiders chill me to my core.
No time to question the futility of life, though. The panicked hand shaking/finger solved the problem only momentarily. And that was a mistake. It was time to get to the task at hand - searching out the little deviant and re-sweeping the sesame seeds. Thank goodness for the peace of mind a good vacuuming brings.