I like to sing.
I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that here or anywhere, really. I do, though. I really enjoy singing. I sing in the shower. I sing while I’m cooking. I sing while I put away dishes and groceries. I sing in the car. I sing at work. When there’s music I like singing along so I can get the key and tempo and (hopefully) words right. When there’s no music I do the best I can and tend to stick to songs that I know all, or most, of the words.
Singing always makes me feel a little better. When I have really bad days I don’t sing. I can’t sing. I want to, but my tongue, jaw, and lips won’t move.
Maybe this goes back to when I was a kid and suddenly one of my brothers would start singing and I and the other, if we were all there, would join in. Mostly we sang songs from Animaniacs or The Beatles. Stuff we knew. Our voices went together well. It was always fun for me. Also, it was something that people of the female persuasion would compliment me on because they were surprised that I could do it (like the guys and my ability to catch a football, every year for all of my required schooling). I wasn’t complimented on much as from my peers, especially the female ones, and it felt a weird kind of good.
Singing still feels good even when it’s just me.