January 31, 2007

Half-hearted little protest.

I won't talk about that AmeriCorps fiasco anymore...well, not as much, anyway, but I'll say this: I fianlly got some sort of financial document from them yesterday: a W-2.

Let's analyze this situation. Over the couse of a month and a half when I had the misfortune of being associated with them, I never recieved a single pay stub. I didn't even know what my pay rate was until two weeks into my stint of torture. I never recieved my health plan card (policy was supposed to be in effect on day one). However, they were on the ball enough to quickly yank me from payroll the instant I gave the virtual flip-off to the organization I was placed with. (Would have been nice to have gotten a phone call from someone at the state level apologizing for the frustration and the lack of professionalism in the agency I was placed with, but that's water under the bridge, right?)

Guess whose information is incorrect on her W-2?

Yup. My name is spelled correctly, which is somewhat miraculous, but my house number and street name are both wrong.

Doesn't the federal government have oversight on this kind of thing? Don't they check and double-check those fifty ka-trillion fucking forms I filled out and signed to verify data gets put in correctly? The address they printed doesn't even exist.

I had no idea the idiocy in the program was so widescale. I assume someone at the state level input the information, but there's really no excuse. I know it's just a W-2, but really it's the final insult I've recieved from that program.

I'll never get back the money that came out of my pocket to support that program, and I can't even claim a tax deduction because I don't have documentation of all that gas and milage that went in my car, the fact that I used my personal home to store their property for almost a month, and so on. Guess who didn't have the forms she needed to record that information and get it approved because my supervisor was a moving target? Yeah, me.

I'm tempted to set a match to this insulting little W-2 and not file it with my taxes as a show of protest, however something tells me that Uncle Sam has an eye on me and will flag me if that employer identification number doesn't pop up in my documents.

So there, government, take your frickin' taxes from my $1000 living allowance. I hope that money serves you well and that you'll use it to fix the AmeriCorps tangles that seem to be so prevalent.

Posted by Tiffany at January 31, 2007 10:41 AM | TrackBack
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