Well, I've been back two days, and already Seth is eating away at my very last nerve. I don't think I've talked about Seth, but not for lack of irritation. Seth is The Lawyer. He is not the lawyer who files our ULPs - as far as I can tell, his job is to dig up dirt on the companies we're targeting and look for "leverage points" to threaten them with, so they won't harass the workers too much. Alas, if only that was all he did.

You see, Seth is a talker. One of those people clinically unable to stop any thought which passes through his brain from likewise passing through his mouth. And because Seth has a desk in the same room as I, he shares a lot with me.

First off, Seth would like me to know that I'm doing God's work by helping workers organize. Even before I knew his name, I knew he thought I was doing God's work. Also, he's very fond of launching into this declaration while I'm listening to a ringing dialtone, and can't really respond since a worker will (hopefully) be answering any second.

But aside from the quality and Godliness of my work, Seth likes to tell me about New Jersey. One of this first non-Godliness discussions we had was about the suburbs, an area I don't hold in high regard. He tried to sell me on the qualities of the NJ suburbs, and I said I much preferred living in the city, and that moreover, the qualities of the suburbs (lack of sidewalks, lack of mixed-use land, prevalence of garages) destroys community life. He was very hurt by this, and tried to convince me that I just hadn't tried it yet, although that's not what I'd call a convincing argument. He was so personally impassioned to convince me I was wrong I had to think - dude. You're happily married, with kids, making twice is not more than I do. Why the hell are you worried about what some 20-something beginning organizer thinks of where you live? Please, be a little more secure in your living choices than that!

Also, Seth loves trash. Seth loves dumpster diving probably more than I do, which is really saying something. But the problem is, Seth doesn't really understand dumpster diving, in that, you're out late at night, standing in a dumpster shared by multiple offices, dodging bags of biohazard waste, and continually watching for someone to roll up and ask what the hell you're doing, and as such, you don't have too much time to be selecting only the cream of the garbage crop. Moreover, for all Seth's talk about how "we'll" do this, that, and the other thing, "we" never seems to extend to hauling the trash back out or cleaning up. If you're not going to do the dirty work, don't act all chummy with the peons. What, did my skirt and heels ensemble make you mistake me for a Stepford wife? (Also, for the love of God, man - wear gloves when you're rummaging around in the trash! And don't eat while you're doing it!)

Also, apparently I've developed a reputation of being good at piecing together torn up paper. I feel like Nick going through the vaccuum trash of Jeffrey Toombs' car - this font over here, that font in that pile, and the blank pieces over here...