One reason is that I had nothing else to do today, so I figured I'd be creative. Another is that I owed those two stories (one was very, very owed) and I knew I'd feel better once they were written.
But a third was that I'd worked myself into a fit of depression because, of all silliness, the Secret Santa stuff. I mean, it was my choice to not go to the party, so it's really dumb for me to feel left out, right? Well, no one said I was rational or adult. (And, yeah, my birthday was just last week, and two people offered to write me stories, so yay! Who needs Santa, anyway?)
Writing the stories got me out of that bit. Yay for fic therapy.