Taxes

I went down to see my dad yesterday so he could help me file my tazes. We put in the pertinent information and he asked me to give him my W-2s. I looked in my backpack, and realized I left all my tax stuff at work.

I had to shred my phone/electric/cell phone bills, and I had them in one side of my folder. I had my tax stuff in the other side of the folder. Haste makes waste, and I tried to shred three bills at once and they got jammed in the shredder. I fixed the problem (with YB and Spacebrain rolling their eyes at me), and continued shredding my bills. It took a while, so when I was done, I quickly left their office, with my folder sitting right on the desk. Boooooooooo. I made an appointment for next week.

While I was sitting there with my dad, some lady called to set up an appointment. He asked her who she would like to have prepare her taxes, what time, all that good stuff. Then he asked for her phone number. All of a sudden I hear my dad say 'I don't take shorthand, ma'am, can you please slow down.' HA!!HA!! My dad is a military guy and has a deep, gruff voice. It sounds mean, but he's not really being mean. I cracked up laughing. That sounds like something I would say.

After I left H&R Block, I went to see my mom. Today she has a bronchoscopy, and she's a little nervous about it. She's going to Senegal in two weeks, so she wants to make sure that her shortness of breath won't hinder her too much. I hope they figure out what's wrong with her. She told me 'I don't care if the doctor says I can't go. I'm going. If something bad happens, at least I'll be doing something I want to do instead of moping and thinking about what I could be doing.' That's SO my girl.