How do we measure worth?

Hello there!
Have you ever just felt like a piece of gum on the road? Like, or maybe, more accurately, a little mound of gluggy, bland, bitty, mash potato? Colourless, odourless, quite symmetrical but lacking in anything really worthwhile?
This is how I leapt out of the mash potato prison and made myself a cup of lemon drink.
Am I the only person to have searched the word 'leapt' on google and found themselves with an immense feeling of unexplainable revoltion at reading the words 'leapt and leaped'?

Ok.
Surging forwards, now that I have my hot lemon drink, away from this weirdness and into my sunny sun-room filled with draping potted plants and wooden chairs sporting white padded upholstry. There is a faded wooden floorboard because the sun shines on it for hours every day.
Faded, yes. Faded but peaceful. Worn yet beautiful. Broken and somehow shining.
We are fools to think that we will remain untouched by the world around us. I often wonder if I had been more careful with what I let in back then, maybe my soul would not be suffering so much now. Would I have turned out to still be innocently assuming, childishly hopeful, undoubtedly sure that the world was mostly a wonderfully magical place where wish-stars floated over chalked sidewalks among skyscraper buildings around eccentric strangers wearing red stockings ever eager to share their hot-dog? Or did I tune out too much, inflicting unintentional neglect in an attempt to calm the storm and keep it calm?
There are times when I feel terribly weakened by my experiences. Chipped and sanded, scratched and ripped, stripped entirely of outer protection, but who's to say that damage cannot be done even when clad in the most extensive amour known to man?
Slivers of reality can slide their way in unnoticed and turn out one of your lights.
So would you let it?
'What are The Slivers and how can I profit from them?'
'What is reality?'
'I used to have eleven light bulbs but now I only have four. Where are they going and how come the ones left are really small?'
These are the real questions.

What I'm trying to say is: for the eighteenth thousandth time my clock is calling '11.16pm! Why are you not in bed?' And I'm replying 'Clock, why are you ordering me around? Don't you do that enough already?'
And it just winks at me, as if we are both in the know of a really cool joke that only it knows, so I'm forced to nod with a small smile and a tilting back of the head, much like Dean Winchester does right before doing the What A Freak expression.

The point is: if you are not actively doing anything constructive with your day, is that day then classified as a waste? What if you were happy the entire day? Or, happy but kind of irked? Or, not really happy, not really irked, but somewhere in the middle of YOLO/I need to get something done because spending all day at work and then lounging in bed watching cleaning videos on youtube is not spontaneously orgasm-inducing at all.
And I mean the spontaneous orgasm you get when you're doing something really soul-satisfying, like painting a portrait or going on a motorbike trek across country with fifty others. Or, you know, actually having sex.

Basically, I started this post to say: I will be undertaking a Healthy Eating Challenge in four days- horray!- and here is a list of the rules.
However, all I can think about are miniature cupcakes with edible flowers on them, miniature ponies with rainbow manes and glittery hooves, and this one random blond girl serving in a hip cafe somewhere in the back of my dreams.
So!
Good luck with deciphering any of that!

I hope you keep your smile amidst the burdens.
I hope you learn to feel the pain without drowning it in alcohol.
I hope you reach high, take that little box down from the shelf, open it, and believe with the entire essence of your being. You are worth it.

💖