A couple of weeks ago, I kind of got conned into going to a youth Lock-In with the kids from my church. I say conned, because I was under the impression that he would have to cancel the whole thing if he couldn't get an adult woman there as a chaperone, and I didn't want him to have to do that. There was another adult woman there, but apparently she wasn't old enough...being almost 30 AND a RN wasn't sufficient, I guess. *Sigh*
At any rate, Steve had already agreed to chaperone and I was there too, along with three other adults and 23 teenagers. Yikes.
We spent the night at a local gymnastics facility, where they have trampolines, this weird pit filled with foam blocks that you can jump into, balance beams and uneven bars. I think it's a place where cheerleading squads train or something. I don't know, I just know we treated it like a big playground.
We were there all night, and being a chaperone meant we didn't get to sleep, so we jumped on the trampolines and used (or tried to, because let's be honest, I am not cut out to be athletic in any way) the other equipment. It was fine! I didn't hurt myself, turn my ankles or anything. Considering I'd been moving around a lot, that was a miracle. By the time the whole thing was over, I'd been awake for about 25 hours and I was sooooooooooo tired.
We took the kids back to the church and stayed until they were all picked up, and while I was talking to my coworker, I went to lean back on his door frame. At least I thought I was near his door frame. Apparently, in my very tired state, I wasn't standing where I thought I was, and I fell. I tried to catch myself, but my shoes got locked together and I fell, flat over, without the benefit of slowing myself down at all. Honestly, I think if I'd seen myself, I would have thought it was hilarious, but hitting what I'm fairly certain was a concrete floor with only industrial carpeting on it as padding, wasn't very funny at all. I managed to get up (the way you do when you've hurt yourself and don't want anyone to know) and played it off until I got into the truck to go home, but I genuinely thought I'd broken my wrist or dislocated by shoulder, or something! Oh, it hurt so bad! I guess the only saving grace was that my head didn't hit the floor! Oy. Luckily, my skeleton is made of wrought iron or something, because I was OK. Well, relatively OK, because I still sometimes hurt from where I fell, but I know nothing is broken!
So that's the story of how I spent an evening jumping around and hanging from things without getting a scratch, but almost killing myself at the office while trying to lean against a door frame. Ta-da!