Ever Taken Down Your Stream of Consciousness?

They say to dress for the job you want, not the job you have. If that's the case, I got my cat-fur covered sweater. I've got my glasses, I haven't brushed my hair for days. . . . If I sit here long enough in my butt-shaped dimple on the sofa of the local coffee shop, someone will give me an advance on my first novel, right?? Like Paul Varjak in Breakfast at Tiffany's!! Sure would be nice for someone to set me up in a decorated apartment. . . .

. . . But then I'd have to put out. 

But then I'd meet my own charming but flawed male prostitute! We'd fight, I'd give him $50 for the locker room, and then we'd look for his cat in the rain together. . . 

. . . Thus completing the cycle of crazy cat-ladyhood. The end.