Let me die in your arms.

Does it bother anyone else that John Denver wrote "Annie's Song" (a beautiful, romantic, poetic, not too hippie-ish ballad that many people probably either made babies or cried themselves to sleep listening to in the 1970s) about the wife that he beat the living day lights out of? I mean, I just sat here and listened to the Rivers' Cuomo version of it and practically bawled my brains out and for a split second, I wondered if that song ever came on the radio while he was giving her the ol' one-two-Hawaiian-punch.

I'm pretty sure it was my older sister who first put this thougth into my head. Now it's bugging me and I feel the need to listen to it on repeat and see if I can disect a dead man's brain. Let's be honest, lots of things are bugging me. Lots of people are bugging me. And alcohol...that's bugging the sweet bejesus out of me. You mix rowdy people who work together with alcohol and you end up with people crying, people beating on one another, and me, quitting my job and walking out the door with my head held high for a change. This happened Friday night and I'm still on fire about it. ON FIRE! I gave up on my job AND my man that night and woke up feeling pretty damn alright about it. After awhile you stop being sad and get angry. And the angry person rules the world.

Of course all that joblessness and defiance didn't last at all because Saturdays where work is concerned are just a joke. And not of the knock-knock variety. Someone's always hungover or has a busted car or doesn't show or peels the entire top, truck, and back off a truck driving it under a 10'3" bridge (truck is 13' tall mind you). I believe I even used the phrase "I quit yesterday" several times to make people question why I was dealing with work related issues at all but it didn't matter. I still did my best to keep everyone's heads on. No one likes a headless freak.

Man, I really wish I could tell you the whole story but the whole things get worse and worse by the second. It's like that telephone game you play when you're young. It starts out "Bobby thinks Jamie's cute" and ends up "Your mother's a filthy whore who eats babies" and then people are calling you and screaming before your caffein has kicked in. And for once...truly...I DID NOTHING WRONG! I deserve a medal after this weekend. Shoot. I'm still employed but not happily and I'm still in a relationship but I'm questioning it a lot more these days. At least I'm not getting the goop knocked out of me inspiring someone to write a cheese-ball love song...that is really fucking good.

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you
Come let me love you, come love me again

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again