(10/29/97)["Bullseye."]  I work in an office which is very crowded with desks and secretaries and other workers. My secretary is leaving on Monday and I realize, with guilt, I should be getting her a gift and throw a party. On Monday, after she is gone, there is more room. I like that. I am rearranging the desk supplies.  Patsy is there and gives my secretary a wall hanging which is exactly like the one she gave us. I notice ours is broken. There is moss and little plants on the knickknack. Now a man challenges me to shoot a hole with a rifle in a small circle painted on a booth, one of a series of them up a wall of a building. I try to aim the rifle, but it keeps swinging back and forth so that I haven't got a lock on the target. I feel tense. Then I relax and intuitively wait until the swing is just before reaching the target. I fire. I hit the mark easily, each time. This impresses the man. Now I am traveling in a small moving cart to get my prize.  Like an elevator, we go up the outside of the building, but my booth is over on an overhang and the cart creeps along the edge and I feel excited and scared. Another man is in the booth and he is surprised to learn I had such good skills. He asks me questions. He asks What gun do you own? I say I don't. I just have my ex-husband's rifle. How much do you practice? He asks. I say I don't. He is impressed. I ask if it's OK to stamp my own tickets.  He says no, then I could get away with not paying for the tickets (like postage stamps). I get back in the cart to return.