the day i almost passed out on a catwalk

Our school is currently undergoing a 75MILLION dollar renovation.  A complete overhaul that has landed me in a smelly, non-ventilated portable for a full school year while they construct my new office and classroom.  They tell me it will be worth it but each time they push back the move in date, they lessen my faith in their work.  They did make strides in appeasing me when they promised my ASB room would have a rubberized floor (for easy mop ups of spilled paint), floor to ceiling cabinetry for storage, tables on wheels, AND a utility sink (for easy mops ups of spilled paint). 

Who doesn't want a sink in their classroom, yo?

Anyhow, as a part of this remodel gig, the new performance arts center is operational.  Trainings for the new performance arts center have to occur to those who will use the space.  The new theater sits 600 people, has state of the art technology, all sorts of curtains, lights, and orchestra "clouds" in the sky and is super fancy pants coolness.  Since ASB uses the space for our events, I spent 2 hours of the work day, learning all there is to know about drapes and curtain rigging's.  Naturally, I kept saying "riggins", in loving reference to my favorite character from Friday Night Lights.  Unfortunately, no one got it but I totally entertained myself.

Who doesn't love Riggins?

For the record, my son loves him because he is also the lead character in Battleship, a movie Alexander currently loves more than Pop tarts.

As part of this training, we were asked to climb thousands of feet to the catwalks to see how the fancy schmancy pulley system works for the curtains and such.  We have a beautiful theater and I can't wait to see our program expand because of the state of the art work.   Drama geeks would totally have loved this shizz and I couldn't help thinking of my favorite drama geek, my brother, as I learned about each new bell and whistle.

And then they told me we had to go up into the catwalks. 

I remember my heart rate starting to race as we were climbing, and finding it hard to catch my breath.  One might have thought the response came from having to climb FIVE flights of ridiculously steep stairs to get to the catwalks.  Nope.  I was struggling because, with each flight, I could see us rising into the heavens and it was freaking my shizz out.  The stairs were the see through kind so I could see the floor dropping from below me.  When we finally reached the catwalks, we had to stand on grated metal, installed by the lowest bidder, supported by the thinnest metal ever made.  If I looked down, I could see the stage WAY below me.  On each side, the thinnest of rails was supposed to keep me from tipping over and falling to my death. 

This, my friends, is the part of the adventure where things get a little fuzzy in the ol' memory bank.  See, I'm the person who once stood on a ladder, outside her home, on the fourth rung, for three hours because she was scared and needed her husband to talk her off the ladder.  This the person who really wants to do the zip line in Fremont in Vegas but knows she'll never have the guts to climb the ladder to get to the zip line.  The person who refuses to walk across grated openings on the ground because she knows they are going to fall out from underneath her.

What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to walk the catwalk???  I have no idea.

According to my co-worker, the minute I stepped out onto the grating, color instantly drained from my face, I started swaying and, if she hadn't casually walked over and propped me up and edged me back to the door, I was definitely going down.  I don't remember any of it but I have enjoyed calling it my "near death experience", which is a total exaggeration but the best way to defuse my fear.

 Not even Riggins could save me today.   Not that I wouldn't mind him trying......