I just had a mini existential crisis.
Actually, I don’t know what an existential crisis is; I just use that term to refer to any internal dialogue where I’m arguing two really important points with myself.
This morning while cleaning, I realized I dislike vacuuming. I love cleaning. I love sweeping, I love mopping … but I don’t like vacuuming.
At first I told myself it was just because I wasn’t used to it, that I would get used to it with time and I would come to appreciate it soon.
But this morning I felt the broom in my hands, and it felt so wonderfully familiar, that it brought me back to how much I had struggled with the bulky vacuum cleaner before and made me immediately begin to question the merits and purpose of all the vacuums of the world.
I became increasingly grumpy, spiralling into a monologue dedicated to my current misery.
What’s the point of vacuums?
Who even decided making a vacuum would be a good idea?
All this technology…is it really making life better or is it just making things worse?
It was at the last point that Other Me really jumped in.
Girl…seriously????? Chillax! You’re getting this worked up over a VACUUM???
You sound like one of those old people constantly perplexed by the fact that the world is not the way it was 50 years ago.
You laugh at those people!
Other Me was right.
I do laugh at those people.
The thing that I realized from that brief exchange with myself is that I too am guilty of one of my own pet peeves. I was unable to realize that just because something isn’t right for me, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with that thing in essence.
I was perfectly willing to suffer through the mental gymnastics of condemning all vacuums in theory, simply because of the fact that I found myself better off without them.
I mean, I’m sure that when Hubert Cecil Booth came up with the idea for the vacuum cleaner, then painstakingly worked to make his vision a reality, he wasn’t thinking to himself, “Well, this machine is brilliant and all, but I’m sure it’s gonna be a real pain in the ass to some random chick cleaning her floors in Kashima 116 years from now.”
Plus, I find vacuums – in and of themselves – to be quite cute.
I mean, look at this gorgeous item.
So the next time I feel like I have some time to waste being miserable, I hope Other Me is there to ready and waiting to remind me to get over myself.
And of whatever ‘offending article’:
It’s not a sign of the stupidity of humanity.
It’s not proof of our pending demise.
It’s just not for you.
Get over it.
And move on.