thirty

That's the number of hours that I "twenty to twenty-five a week would be perfect, thanks" put in last week.

I covered for our senior beauty advisor so she could go to a family funeral. That wasn't a problem and I was happy to do it.

This week, after two very long, eleven to eight days, I was looking forward to being able to get away until Sunday afternoon.

I've been working eleven to eight quite a bit lately.

Until last night when as the assistant manager was about to take a phone call, he said "Don't go anywhere." Um, okay.

He gives me extra projects at work from time to time, so I just figured that he was going to give me something to do for the last two, very long hours of my shift. Uh, nope.

"Would you be able to cover So-and-so's shift on Saturday? She has a school commitment and can't be here."

Enter where my mouth responds faster than my brain can think. That happens often, sorry, Mom.

Immediately forgetting how dog-tired I was, I mentioned something about impending work for Jon and if that wasn't happening this weekend, I didn't see any reason as to why I couldn't cover the shift.

Jon didn't answer his cell the first time I tried. When I tried fifteen minutes later, I was sorta sad to be informed that the work has been put off until November.

For good reason; namely our anniversary get-away at the end of the month, but there goes my built in excuse. Lovely.

If I'd been taught to lie, I'd have been able to come up with something on the spot, you'd think. Something like Kayla's excuse about needing to help chop down a tree. While AB (assistant boss) could tell it was a totally manufactured excuse, ahem, a lie, he couldn't do anything about it. Thanks, Mom and Dad...to wrestle with my conscience wasn't really what I needed at the end of a long day. haha.

So I entered the office and said that I'd be happy to cover the shift on Saturday. And I'll do my best to be cheerful about it, at least until noon.

I sure hope they remember this.