Short Yellow Bus

So, I take a couple of Seasons of the Soprano's on DVD from my moms house and watch like an episode a night. I've seen them all, once, twice or ad nauseum (sp). But, I was wasted as well, so what I thought was excellent then, might seem unbelievably great now. I'm checking out this one episode and Carmela is in the supermarket and as she is about to round the corner of the aisle she notices one of the moles of a now deceased Mafiosi demoing pigs in the blanket. I shut the dvd off and contemplated life.
Since I am living in the halfway house of horrors, a working one, there are certain specifications that I must follow. We have two mandatory meetings per week in which all must attend, these being on Tues and Thurs @ 6 pm. Whichever job you take, you must allow for these, which kind of sounds like no biggie, but it does act like the monkeywrench a lot of the times. Add to this the fact that we can not come into the house past 11 pm or you will be tossed out. (Actually, the person on duty refuses to answer the door after 11 pm). So, with a background in food service and management and cooking, it's kind of hard to finagle something other than corporate dining around these stipulations.
The job I have is bullshit, I know and add to it the fact that I'm on the Upper East and West Side of town and you can see where my insecurities lie. Manhattan has always made me feel 5 inches shorter and 25 pounds overweight and now throw into the mix a seemingly smart looking guy, like myself, wearing a baseball hat and an emblazoned store apron handing out gourmet food. I wonder if I was me as a customer, would I stop and ponder this situation. Like, "How did that guy end up with this?''
I'm putting the finishing touches on my second original script which I hope to present as a 'calling card', along with the first for any writing assignments in idea arid Los Angeles.
Just thought I'd let you know.