A SKETCHY ASSIGNMENT

I was sent to Rob Roy (the hoity toity part of town where all the hippies used to live, in fact, I was one of those hippies, to say that I resent the presence of so much "look at how much money I have" architecture is a gross understatement) this morning with vague instructions regarding moving some doors.
Let's discuss the doors in question, heavy,double glass pre-hung doors, 3 of them.
Where are we moving them to? The upstairs deck.
How are we moving them? Up the stairs?No, no stairs. Through the house? No, we aren't allowed in the house without a clean suit or a pedigree.
Try up a pair of 20 ft. ladders, side by side. The doors are lashed with leads going up to the roof and over the rail with 2 guys pulling from the top and 2 guys pushing and climbing up from the bottom. I am a pusher/climber.
I am afraid of heights.
My pushing/climbing partner is taller and has a longer reach than me, which means that halfway up the freaking door was a good foot out of my reach. The ladders were rickety and shifty. I could only watch and pray, praying in this case would be saying "oh fuck" over and over again.
I said "oh fuck" more times than any guy in any porno I've ever seen.
To say I enjoyed this assignment would be a lie, terrified for an hour would be more like it.
I sure hope I can acclimate to the heady new dangers of being a construction grunt.
The day ended around 7p with lots of tiling between the door nightmare and the evening whistle. I am exhausted.