As if you needed further proof that I'm the coolest mofo on the planet.

Tuesday evening, I had a minor panic when I looked at my calendar for work, then I looked at my work "To Do" list, and realized I was on the verge of drowning.

I called Saint Dah and asked her if she could come fetch The Geej from school on Wednesday so that I could stay late at work and tackle some of the mountain o' shit I needed to get to at work. Of course, she said yes because she fucking rules.

Also Tuesday night, I was directed to this post on a blog called "Diner Girl." I laughed my ass off, and immediately started jonesing for some Chicago. 70s funky groovy lots of horns Chicago. Not the 80s pussed out Peter Cetera and keyboard-heavy Chicago. My mom used to order those old Chicago albums from Columbia House, and she'd play them on the weekends when we'd be cleaning house in our little divorcee/single mom apartment.

Next evening, as everyone left the building and I settled into the idea of staying as late as I needed to to knock out as much stuff as I could at work, I hopped on iTunes and downloaded this "Best of..."Chicago collection that had--I'm crappin' you negative--38 fucking songs. For $11.99. Yes, about 1/3 of them are the 80s (and later) crap that I refer to above, but the rest of it? Fucking gold, people. I strapped on my headphones and then the singing began. Full, unadulterated belting it out. Yes, the cleaning crew was there, but what did I care? I'd never see them again, and I'm sure they were all laughing at the wacked out gringa bopping in her chair and wailing "25 or 6 to 4" at the top of my lungs.

This continued until well after the cleaning crew were done and had left for the night. I was getting SO much work done, that I didn't want to leave and get out of my groove.

Finally, about 8:30, I had to get up to pee. And OH MY GOD, I saw this gal from the legal team at the printer. She sits about 10 ft. and over one cube wall from me. I just about died. I was all, "Oh hi, Legalgirl. I thought I was the only one here...(nervous laugh). I mean, I was REALLY signing there...I wouldn't have done that if I'd known...I'm so sorry if I bothered you." This particular gal is a rather humorless soul, and she just kind of went, "Oh, I put my headphones on."

Cripes. I turned about 82 shades of crimson and slinked off to my cube.

I ended up staying another 45 minutes or so, but the rocking was kept to a minimum. I did, however, burn a badass Chicago mix for the car, so now it's The Geej who's being tortured with my singing. Poor, poor girl.