A Step Away from the Wrong Direction

What do we do? What do we do in this life to make it worthwhile? Or to even just pass the time?
For the first time in weeks my head finally feels screwed on, perhaps not correctly adjusted, but it's on. I can manage a smile, the thought of potential curry puffs for dinner excites me, and I don't feel like I want to die. Not that I think I ever really wanted to die in the conventional sense, but perhaps more literally as death suggests a termination of ones thoughts and processes.
It made me wonder how one seemingly regular Friday could bring about such a change? I woke beyond exhausted, snoozed a few too many times and prevented being late for work by about 3 seconds. I felt sick to my core for the better part of the morning, became frustrated when my colleagues made pointless comments about my mood as if they really gave a shit anyway, and sat through morning tea listening to some random carry on about how she thought psych patients were worse than them all put together and that you can still be crazy beneath a seemingly 'normal' exterior. Seriously, shut the fuck up. So at lunchtime, which I was actually ready for today, I dragged my feet and my massive water bottle outside to avoid the mind-numbing superficial chatter of the tea room.
Mrs Boss said she thought I seemed better. I wasn't sure how she could tell. Could she see inside my head? I wasn't sure if she was right or if I'm just getting better at living it. Perhaps sometimes I am better? When Mr T called last night I felt my heart lift, and it remained suspended for a full half hour. That's got to count for something, right?
But lunchtime today, it made me feel a little lighter. Confessing my love for Chanel and all things classic made me smile inside and thoughts of tomorrow's potential sleep-in reminded me what I have to look forward to. How is it that I suddenly became aware of myself, and not this pseudo-me that I have become?
I have always thought of myself as an introvert, because I could pass the time with the words of Plath or my blog, but lunchtime suggested otherwise. I don't think I am extroverted as people have come to know the term, but I think I rely on the thoughts and opinions of others to confirm what I see in myself. I think the social exchanges of day-to-day life keep me grounded and make me forget about the universe of insanity swimming around in my head. Even if it is only for an afternoon.
I left work feeling closer to normal than previous days, and keep telling myself that I will have curry puffs for dinner and everything will be okay. So in the time between then and now I have paced. I don't feel the need to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty, I don't have to shut my door to avoid the lives of others or make up events to be excused to the local park in an attempt to avoid eating dinner. I can just be. But what is it that we do in those hours of just existing? I can't remember. So I'm back to being bored.