Bad News

So, uh, Adam might be getting laid off.

I AM SO PISSED. A week ago, Exal Corp. was bragging on the local news that while GM was considering laying off workers, Exal was actually expanding by building a new section on land that the city of Youngstown gave them as a grant.

And then today, Adam goes in for a big all-company meeting, and they say, "Hey, we're maybe gonna lay off fifty guys. Or maybe twenty. Or maybe none. It all depends on how many orders we get in the next few days."

And then here's the best part— they won't tell us until Monday. And then on Monday, they'll just start telling certain people to go home. No warning, no advance notice. Nothing. Fuckers.

And even if they don't lay him off, they might move him to the packing department and start paying him less, because they are so totally gonna fire the packers first, and then they'll make him do that stuff.

MOTHER FUCKERS.

I am beyond enraged. If this company had been honest with me from the get-go, I'd be sympathetic, but they TOLD US THEY WERE DOING FINE. They said EVERYTHING WAS FINE. And now suddenly it's not.

It's not even the money I'm worried about— I make enough that between my tiny income and Adam's unemployment, we'd be able to make it. It wouldn't be easy or fun, since we're poor as it is, but we wouldn't starve. It's the insurance that has me upset. We both need major dental surgery; Adam's is already scheduled for the 2nd, and mine should be coming along shortly. We need our insurance, yo.

We have a thousand in savings, but we need that. We need it for the move to NYC or DC next fall. We need it to pay for Adam's GRE...oh gosh, how are we going to pay the application fees? How are we going to pay for him to get to his interviews?

This I solemnly swear: as soon as Adam is no longer employed by Exal, I will never buy another slug-based aluminum can again. Those fuckers can rot in their stupid factory, for all I care.

I AM SO ANGRY AT EVERYONE. All these stupid bitches trying to take out mortgages they can't afford and fucking up the credit markets, and somehow the interconnectedness of all things ensures that it screws me over— me, Philosophy Walker, who has never bought groceries without coupons, who turns off the heater when Adam is gone so that we'll save money, who walked three miles in the snow yesterday to save gas. I have scrimped and saved and been cautious and careful and ACTED LIKE AN ADULT. And it makes me angry that there are people looking for sympathy because they wanted expensive shit, because they felt they were entitled to a certain amount, because they wanted MORE.

I don't want more. I just want enough. Is that so much to ask?