I'm in the office (old-fashioned, all the desks in one room, more like Texlite was). I keep something in my desk - some papers, a computer printout? - that's a drag to revise - that's supposed to be kept locked up, and Byrdie and I keep the keys (which are shiny new brass keys, bigger like door keys). This other person in the office needs to see this stuff sometimes and Byrdie lends her the key if I'm not here, but the girl who's got that job is new (seems to be Cathy ) and before her there were others - they didn't stay long, and it was quite a nuisance. So now Byrdie's standing here saying "I think I'll give her my key and then I can get it from her when I need in there." I don't like this idea - my reaction is like I usually react to Byrdie - disgust, weary, plagued - another of her lame-brained ideas. There's somebody else here, female, I don't know who, but she has an interest in this and she's understanding of the workload in the office. I want her to know I think that giving the key to Cathy is risky, and I say so. I point out that she probably won't even stay very long. And I say, "I don't mean to actually expect her to leave soon, she only just got here, but after the others I'm just not optimistic." (Or words to that effect.) It's a pain getting keys made, too. I've been called somewhere by some guys in suits, and they're like CIA or something. I'm supposed to be doing some job for them, or providing information, but I don't know what and I'm rather disgruntled about it. One of them tells me not to worry about it, I'll be informed eventually but not right now. Another scene sort of SOCIETY FOR THE CREATIVE ANACHRONISM/Renaissance Fair - I go into a marquee tent on my way outside and Brenda's in there but she doesn't see me - she says to somebody she's been gone 18 months and for some reason she's out of sorts - I'm trying to stay out of her way before I get out.