Summer sets in, sits for a spell, and pummels me like a boxing bag

It's hot today. I don't like hot. But I do like feeling much better after being ill over the weekend. I think I can actually leave the house today. Too bad it's hot out. Did I mention I don't like hot weather? I want to move north in the summer.

In less sweltering news, I'm three assignments away from being done with my Personal History class. I had made a goal to finish it before Other Jim officially graduates from high school. With his party coming up very soon, I'm not sure if I'll make that goal, but it will be close. I might have to submit the last assignment (which is a big one--over 40 pages long--but comprised of edited versions of five or six of the assignments I will have turned in by then) after the party. Next up after that, Poetry.

Limericks. It's gonna be all limericks.

Speaking of which, I wrote one for my mom. She asked for a poem on Mother's Day and I didn't come through for her (sorry Mom. Frowny face).

Mom, here's the limerick I wrote for you for Mother's Day which I never gave to you:

For Mom's Day you wanted a sonnet:
A card with rhyming words on it.
After hemming and hawing,
and much pencil gnawing,
This lim'rick's all I could write, doggonit.