How come there's peackocks in the front yard?

I haven't driven to work since June 11th. I'm pretty happy about that. In the time since, I've logged about 1,050 commuting miles on my bike over the course of 43 work days. I might have to break the streak on Monday, which really sucks.

I'm going to the Pirates game after work (most likely to watch them lose to the Cubs), and I'm thinking that driving to work would probably be the smartest thing to do. I'm not sure if riding my bike home at 10:30 at night is the best idea. I don't know. Heather might not be too keen on me riding home that late, either. I just hate driving to work. Seriously.

Don't get me wrong; I love my car, but I really hate rush hour. I hate traffic. I hate construction. I hate the idiots in front of me, behind me, and beside me. I love riding my bike. I love seeing all of the cars that are stuck on the parkway. I love deciding how fast I want to go. I love having all kinds of room around me. I love that I can get from here to there under my own power.

I'm going to pay for this.

I think I took a little too much batting practice tonight on Wii Sports. I hope I can use my right arm tomorrow. And still, I was only able to get eight homers. Although I found that I do better if I actually face the TV instead of standing sideways as you would expect to as the batter. Maybe my swing gets across the plate faster or something.

The only reason I stopped was because Heather finally got home from her friends place. She probably saved me from permanent debilitation.