Sometimes...

Sometimes I think I am really funny. I say things that are ridiculous or stupid or lame and just laugh and laugh at them because sometimes a good laugh is just what you need. And I love laughing. I love the feeling of not being able to breathe because you cannot control the gut busting laugh coming out of your mouth. I love the "I have six-pack abs" feeling, the silent laughter, the tears rolling down my face because it's just that funny feeling. I love causing that, and I love love love it when people make me feel that way. Sometimes I cook delicious foods. There is just something about slaving away in the kitchen that makes me feel better about myself and everything around me. Better than therapy, cooking is calming. It makes me focus on the recipe or the dish instead of everything else. It clears my head, allows me to focus, allows me to see and think clearly. It opens my mind. Sometimes when I cook delicious foods I share with people around me.  Creating something that other people can enjoy reminds me of all the good in my life. It makes others happy. It relaxes me. It makes me happy. Sometimes I listen to my music way too loud. I blast Taylor Swift or George Strait or Parachute or Clint Black or Jason Aldean or He Is We or Stephen Speaks. I have dance parties...mostly by myself. I let the music wash over me like a Texas sized thunderstorm pouring down out of the sky. Music is the life-blood of my soul, and sometimes I let it sweep me away. Sometimes I lay around in my pajamas all day long and watch movies. Sometimes I workout and leave all my frustrations or worries at the gym. Sometimes I sit and stare at my computer, trying to find the words to explain everything that goes on in my head. Sometimes I struggle. And sometimes I simply enjoy the little things. A snapchat from a friend, climbing a tree to decorate for a wedding reception, snuggling on the couch with a little brother who is just enjoying the fact that I am home. The warm Texas sunshine beating down on my face, the way my dog lifts his head when I drive around the corner and pull into the driveway, the way that my Dad always laughs at my jokes. The crazy Christmas songs that I grew up listening to and the way my Dad ALWAYS sings them. Checking the mail. Letters. Long chats with some of my best friends. The way little comments from a friend can change the way your whole day turns out. The beauty of snow and the break from the cold I get coming home. The fact that I know no matter where I am living I always have someone to turn to. The Gospel of Jesus Christ and the opportunity to partake of the Sacrament each and every week. Making people happy. Sometimes I change my mind. I cannot make a decision about anything. I can barely decide which dessert to have, let alone make decisions about my life. Sometimes I struggle. I don't know what to do and although everyone keeps saying things like "there is no pressure" and "the choice is up to you" and "there is no wrong decision here" to me, there is pressure, and every decision seems like the wrong decision. And despite what everyone says, everyone has expectations. Their idea of what they think I should do. And whether or not these ideas are verbally expressed or not they are there and they are understood. And I can't make everyone happy, it's impossible. So how do I know what to do? And if every decision seems to leave me regretting something, how do I decide what I will regret the least? Sometimes I just need life to slow down. Sometimes I just need someone to wrap me up in a hug that lasts forever and tell me that things will be alright. No judging, no hidden expectations, no pressure. Just love and comfort and understanding. Sometimes I am ridiculous. I like to eat chocolate, and Swedish Fish and have dance parties in my kitchen. I like to go hiking and to shoot guns and I love to go fishing. And sometimes I feel like I have no clue what I am doing with absolutely anything. And that's going to have to be okay for now.