Last night I was feeling it, and decided to face my fear. I tried to relax enough to think clearly, which helped. Following the direction of the narrative, I went out to my back porch.
There was a bluish-grey robot out the back porch, near the garbage. It looked up apologetically.
"Oh, sorry! Was I causing a random, meaningless panic? It's the magnets. I use them to collect the recycling, but sometimes they have side effects."
I made a sleepy, panicked, grumbly noise.
"I'll be more careful about that. Thanks for letting me know."
Moral: It's better to face your fear than it is to, um, recycle, I guess, maybe?