At 7:30 p.m. on a Friday, while most students are concocting plans for a weekend of debauchery, Helena Gleissner has wedged herself between a sound board and a light board in the back of the Fairchild Theatre, and in front of a huge notebook filled with rainbow-colored tabs.

Part psychologist, part mother and part MacGyver, Gleissner's job as production stage manager is to make sure everything in the theater department's most recent production, "Blues for Mr. Charlie," goes as perfectly as possible.

On a typical day, she wakes up at 8 a.m. to swim for an hour. "It's my stress relief because water doesn't punch back," she said.

Around 10 a.m., Gleissner, a theater graduate student with a concentration in directing, makes her first trip of the day to Fairchild Theatre. Once there, she checks her e-mail and works on production for the next show she's involved in. Then she does homework until it's time to go to class.

Although the show doesn't start until 7:30 p.m. and actors aren't called until 6 p.m., Gleissner is at the theater at 5 p.m. to clear up any problems from the night before. On Thursday, sound glitches caused the show's first intermission to run longer than expected, so for Friday, sound board operator Molly Taggart, a theater junior, and Gleissner are doing their best to remedy the problem, with flurried phone calls to the show's sound designer.

At 5:30 p.m., with the all of the crew and most of the actors present, Gleissner begins her rounds, darting backstage and through the house.

Gleissner's first minor crisis of the night is when one of the actors informs her that the chain he's supposed to wear caused a rash on his neck.

"That's probably because it was made of nickel," she said. "Don't worry about it for tonight, we'll get you a new one tomorrow."

Gleissner talks with every actor before the show, asking about their health, their day or their plans for the weekend.

"It's part of my job to check on everyone's state of mind, especially the actors," Gleissner said. "If someone has had a bad day, or a difficult time the night before, it's my job to make them feel better. A happy group works together better."

Gleissner scurries back down the stairs and doesn't take two steps before she's interrupted by another cry of "Helena."

This time, it's Erlinda Garcia, a theater junior and stage manager assisting Gleissner with "Blues for Mr. Charlie." Someone broke one of the glasses used in the show and Garcia needed to find a replacement.

Gleissner and Garcia descend the stairs to prop storage under the stage. In a musty room, filled with cabinets and tools, Gleissner plucks an exact replica of the broken glass off a shelf filled with glassware.

Returning to the stage, Gleissner goes to the backstage microphone and announces 10 minutes until fight call, where physical action is rehearsed. Aaron Dean, a theater senior, tells her about some exposed staples on a set piece.

She rushes to the back of the theater, rummages through a plastic tool box and retrieves a hammer. She finds the offending set and pounds the staples so they will no longer be a danger to the actor.

One of the staples refuses to break and Gleissner again goes to her toolbox to get a roll of packaging tape. Patching the rough spot, she realizes it's time for fight call.

Assembling the actors on stage, she watches for problems as they run through the scene. Satisfied, she announces that 10 minutes remain until actor warm-ups.

After fight call, she's approached by another actor with a costume problem; he has a bleach spot on his pants. After examining the spot, Helena assures him that it's minuscule and that no one will be able to see it.

"Actually, you probably will be able to see it," Gleissner said as the actor walked away. "But it's important to not give the actors more to worry about.

"There's nothing we can do about it tonight and having that on his mind will give him another thing to think about."

Gleissner leads actor warm-ups, combining exercises that prepare the actor's voices and get them into the right frame of mind for the show. She takes charge as they shake, stretch and yell what might seem like nonsense to the casual observer.

Her ease during the warm-ups and while leading the large group comes from her experience with children. Her thesis is a project based theater for mentally handicapped children and adults.

Now comes the easy part. After a few more trips up and down the stairs, making sure all the props are in place and all the actors are ready to take the stage, Gleissner takes her position at the back of the theater and puts on her headset, which she will use to call every light and sound cue to the crew backstage.

Bathed in blue light, Gleissner leans over her notebook, whispers her first cue of the night and the production begins.

Three-and-half-hours later, Gleissner's night is finally over. After curtain call is finished and the house has cleared, she has to make sure everything is cleaned up and everyone has a ride home.

"There's no trickle down of responsibility," Gleissner said. "If something goes wrong, it's my fault because I'm supposed to double check everyone's work."