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Cold Bowling

It's true hard work never killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance?
-- Ronald Reagan

Monday, December 13, 1999
One year ago: Ghost in the Shell

That day, a year ago, was certainly a good one! I remember the details clearly: ham salad sandwiches, lounging around reading Jack's manga of "Ghost in the Shell," helping him pick up wet leaves in the back yard.

* * * * * * * *

It had been decided (love that passive voice!) that today we'd go bowling, as a work-related team-building excursion. The last time we went was the day that one of our team had quit/been fired! But there weren't any such dramatic changes today; Chip just felt we should go.

We went to Totem Bowl, a different place than last time, closer to our new office. Kellie had called last week to make sure the place wouldn't be dominated with league players, and it certainly wasn't! We were the only folks there.

We decided (ok, M--- decided) to play as two teams: Chip and Kellie against M--- and me. M--- is very athletic (he's involved somehow in a human-powered flight project) but he said he hadn't bowled since high school.

I ended up doing very well, for me! Around 120, 150, and 180 for the last game! M--- bowled well also (beginner's luck, Chip called it), and Chip had respectable scores. Kellie bowled a few good frames, but was very inconsistent in how she put the ball down, which hurt her score. Concern about her fingernails was holding her back, I think. M--- and I won two games out of three, I think.

I was able to be relaxed and in the zone, which helped me. Even when I was bowling on a regular basis, 180 would have been above my average!

* * * * * * * *

I hadn't been feeling well all day (a cold coming on), so I left directly from the bowling alley and drove home. I took two day-quil equivalent soft-gels, then lay down, supposedly for just a few hours. These meds are supposed to be non-drowsy-making, but I was totally knocked out! And I felt really bad when I returned to consciousness around nine o'clock, all snorty and clogged and coughing. I managed to write to: Chip, to say I wouldn't be in to work tomorrow (and he replied, signing his mail "Chip 'Shuddering-to-think-what-she-would-have-bowled-healthy' Anderson," but maybe being semi out of it was what let me bowl with calm and unconcern); Carla, to say I needed to cancel on being a front desk volunteer at a dance tomorrow, and to Jack. Then I collapsed back into bed.



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