I woke up around 9 and played with my nephew for a while and then headed to Liberty Tax to demand that they help us solve a problem from our 2012 tax return. I figured since they prepared our taxes and told us everything was ok, they should pay the IRS the money we allegedly owe. When I worked at Red Robin, I had to tip out the busser, bar tender and expo. Every night I would write down how much I tipped out and made a spread sheet. I ended up tipping out over $5,000, money I had to claim but didn’t actually earn because I was obligated to tip those positions for their help during the shift. We had Liberty Tax adjust the W2 form and they assured us that everything was going to be ok. We just got a letter from the tax man saying we owe $1,300. Liberty tax hasn’t done much to help, and Red Robin said they can’t/won’t help so we have to pay extra so the President can spend his days golfing. I went to Liberty Tax to see them in person and persuade them to assist us, but there was no one in the office.
Angry and hungry I went to Buffalo Wild Wings for breakfast and got to see a bunch of my old coworkers. I left the restaurant and headed to the mall in search of a Seahawks bandana to wipe the sweat from my brow when I work. I wandered the Alderwood Mall for a while noticing how dead it was compared to the Ala Moana shopping center in Honolulu.
At 2 I met up with Pastor Brandon and we drove to pick up his son from school and talked about the awesome things happening at the church and his recent mission trip to Brazil and Argentina. It was a very encouraging talk and it motivated me to live with a missionary attitude. He pointed out, and I completely agree, that I have been living my life more for myself, and not living up to my full potential. I have been working so hard to please the flesh that I have forgotten the most important command Jesus spoke “Go into the world and make disciples of all nations.” I know I have a greater purpose in this world beyond waiting tables and being miserable. Once I got home I called Rebecca and we agreed to finally get plugged into the church and start living with a purpose.
My parents got home around 5 and we headed to a golf driving range. I have never been what you would call a good golfer. I tried out for the high school team and borrowed a 7 iron to putt, chip, and drive. I was cut after the first day but I returned the second day pretending not to know that I had been deemed “not fit to represent the school.” When I hit the ball, I have a typical baseball swing complete with lifting my front leg to get that extra boost. I was hitting the ball far, but inconsistent. My dad showed me how to grip the club and showed me how to turn my wrist to avoid slicing it. We finished our buckets and headed inside to eat. I ordered the hot wings thinking that since it was only hot BBQ sauce thinking I would be able to handle it. Out of all the hot sauces I have tried over the years, this was in the top 3. My mouth was numb and tingling for hours. I went up and shook the owner’s hand and congratulated him on the sauce. After we ate, we played a game of pool and then it was back outside to hit more golf balls. 2 minutes in, a friend of my mom’s came over and immediately started giving me advice, tips and feedback regarding my stance and swing. It really helped. I wasn’t hitting as far as I was earlier, but my shots were centered and more accurate.
We headed home and I stayed up for a few hours once I found a channel that was playing episodes of the Simpson’s back to back.
moving to Hawaii 