A serious wrench in life's plans

Friday night was unspeakably awful. During the day, we learned that our company is going through some major changes in management and are going through a temporary "transitional period". While the bosses did nothing but imply that we would all be fine, I am not a moron and became paralyzed by fear. I called some of my colleagues in the LA office who I regard as more than just co-workers and we had some off the record chats about the state of things. They are all actively looking for other jobs which then made me realize I better get my ass in gear and do the same. The worse news is that my industry is shrinking, not expanding, and there are no jobs. Thus I was confronted with the very real possibility that I might be out of work. Indefinitely. Unless of course I choose to do something entirely different like go back to school or teach. ("Those who can't, teach" keeps running through my mind and making me feel like a huge failure for even considering that option, even though I don't really agree with that saying). The point of all this being, when I got home from work, I was in a foul mood and I think justifiably so. All I wanted to do was relax, have a glass of wine, and eat some dinner. So when Jim forced me to go out in the 2 degree weather to meet him a some crap (dry!) restaurant, I was in a terrible, horrible mood. I literally sat there and cried while he ate dinner, nursing a glass of water. That's right, water. That fucking place didn't even serve beer. Tears were rolling down my face the entire time and he had the nerve to get mad at me. I can't afford dinner because I'm about to be unemployed and I have to watch him eat. I was fucking livid. He also showed zero sympathy to my plight. It's true that he has never been the sympathetic type, but really? All he did was yell at me that I was a baby and I finally put my foot down and said, I do not want to go to the farm tonight after your stupid carb-loaded dinner. I want to stay in the city and deal with shit. I need to figure my life out. I have become one of those people who is defined by her job and I'm not ashamed, but that means I am going through a major identity crisis as a result so fuck you and your farm. I cannot fathom standing out there in the bitter cold watching you drive the backhoe around when my life is in utter shambles. That is my dream life, this is my real life and my real life is shit.

I honestly think I might start seeing a psychiatrist. I need some meds. No wait, I can't afford them without the health insurance that I am about to lose any day now. Life sucks.