Normally, I can be prepared for the "unexpected" work phone call. CP Rail is like that. We deal with the 24-hours-on-call stuff and celebrate small victories like landing a "regular shift" once in a while - something with a guaranteed weekend. Like this week. Andrew got "forced" to a Honda job, here in town. Three to five hours a day, 8 hours of pay, and Saturday/Sunday as the weekend.
Earlier this week, though, the OLD boss called, and asked Andrew to possibly do a relief shift today. An ex-colleague got married last night, and the house might be short-staffed. Andrew said, "probably, let me know the hours." We found out the hours. This morning. at 9:02. The hours? 9-9 today. A friend was supposed to get back to Andrew to let him know the details. But forgot. And lied about to save his own butt.
So I got dressed up, made up, cleaned up, only to miss Bible study and church, and to be left carless and carseat-less for 12 hours with no food in the house, and a bunch of cleaning to do before a showing of the townhouse between 6 and 7 tonight that we've gotta be scarce for.
Plus, I burned my tongue, the underside of my tongue, and the back of my throat on the perogies I managed to scrounge up for lunch.
I am not good at dealing with the very unexpected. When I have plans, I'm not able to quickly and easily shift those plans. I get angry. I shouldn't, but it's how I deal.
What a grumpy day.
**UPDATE** Mom (and Dad?) Stewart are taking us out to Swiss Chalet to get us out of the house. (Thanks Mom!) I guess I'd better get to that cleaning.