We've got a new daily organiser at the school I work with and she's awesome - she's switched on, and makes sure all us relief teachers get enough work. But this week I'm told the planned three day a week offer for the next three weeks is off - there's been a lot of timetable reshuffling meaning the work I was promised is no more.

I'm trying not to be upset about it. It's a bit of a case of 'be careful what you wish for' as I really, really didn't want the three days - two is perfect for my needs, and I find any more pretty wearying on my nervous system.

I also feel that 55 is a perfect age to retire - who'd teach til the pension age of 67? Once, teachers got a retirement fund at 55. Not anymore.

Thing is, I can't retire yet - we don't have tons of money, but just enough. We have enough for the next two years - to live, and to do a bit of travelling, then we are dirt broke again, so ideally, we need to top up our funds in some way. Dammit, Hive - moon!

There is a helluva lot of awful uncertainty in temporary work, as this week is proving. You can't actually bank on it. So whilst I'd added up the few thousand I'd be earning for the next few weeks, turns out it's probably only few hundred.

So, we tighten the belt again. Forget the Massive attack concert tickets and the ferry to Tasmania. Forget the desired disposable income purchases, like the beautiful warm brushed nickel tapware I coveted, but are completely unnecessary, for the bathroom. Plant more seeds, shop at the food charity bank, figure out ways to not spend money - saving is impossible, so not letting money slip through your fingers is the best we can do.

Then there's the psychological stress of not working, of feeling useless, and the days stretching out on my own. I like a couple of days of work so I can talk to people (any longer and I want to kill people - it's a fine line) - and with Jamie at work, I can get depressed. Looks like I'll be playing a lot of loud music, inventing projects to do (maybe I'll start baking sourdough again?) and helping Mum in the garden. Besides, I need to paint the skirting boards so Jamie can put them in the bedrooms.

It's not the end of the world but it's certainly a financial stress to be expecting work, and then have it taken away from you.

As Jamie says, we will be fine. How he doesn't stress about money is beyond me. I try, but find myself getting anxious.

How do you deal with flexible, and uncertain, incomes - that can change at any time?