Oh, the dreaded calls to/from home on the days/nights when AH was home alone - I know the agony of which you speak. I used to work Saturdays, and I dreaded calling him or getting calls from him on those days. I never knew what exactly I was going home to, and I was the one person who did NOT actually want to leave work to go home on Saturday evenings. He used to call me to see when I was coming home - not because he missed me, but I know it's because he was figuring out how much time he had to drink or go get more booze before I came home. Half the time, he'd be so smashed that he wouldn't even hang up the phone properly, so the phone would be off the hook for hours until I got home and found the one he "forgot" to hang up. I hated those Saturdays.
Now I have grown to hate weekends because I'm never quite sure what they will bring either. Mondays are dreadful as well because I've had to pretty much lie about many a weekend since I really don't feel like sharing how much it sucks to be living with an AH. (Oh, how I had to skim over much of my long birthday weekend when I returned to work today - I left out the part about my husband's binging, my total emotional breakdown, and the ensuing depression!)
I'm done trying to anticipate what will happen (or at least I'm trying to be) - I have enough to deal with on the day to day, so I'm working to just live in the now and try to make this now the best now it can be. I'm not doing terribly well on that just yet, but day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.