Janie's in bed by the time I get home. Of course she is. I work later now. Since I'm gone all evening and sleep later in the morning, it sometimes seems like we hardly see each other anymore.
So I walk the dog, choke down a late dinner, spend some time on the interweb. There used to be an entire evening to decompress after work, but I've only been home a little more than an hour, and it's already 1 AM. The bed is calling.
The radio's on, the "lite FM" station Janie favors when I'm not around. Fine. I leave it on.
She stirs slightly as I get into bed, a relexive action to the new presence beside her, but she doesn't actually wake up. I claim my side, put my arm around her...and become aware of the song that's playing.
Look, I don't like Aerosmith, okay? And especially this--I Don't Want To Miss A Thing. A generic Diane Warren song, recorded for Michael Bay's typically awful Armageddon? Can it get any worse, less inspired, more corporate?
No. I hate this song. I've always hated this song. But at this moment...damn.
Right now, it can't be denied: These words sum up my feelings perfectly. Staley leaps over Janie and looks at me, letting out a tentative meow, and the three of us snuggle together. Maybe, I think, even the crappiest music has its place, and I drift off happily to sleep.
