Oliver Burkeman in Four Thousand Weeks gave me a pick-me-up in my evening creative shenanigans the other day:

In an age of instrumentalization, the hobbyist is a subversive; he insists that some things are worth doing for themselves alone, despite offering no payoffs in terms of productivity or profit... It's fine, and perhaps preferable, to be mediocre at them... to pursue an activity in which you have no hope of becoming exceptional is to put aside, for a while, the anxious need to "use time well."

Play the countermelody. Do something for the whimsy of it!