Where's my motivation?

Friday afternoon my cousin called me at work hype as hell, talking about meeting her and some friends at a new hot spot in LA to watch the game. "I bought you a Laker shirt and I cut it up for you already so just wear your jeans and a white tank!" Yit ti dee, yit ti dee! But the game started at like 6 or something and LA is a 30 minute drive away from me on a day without traffic. However, this was Friday and in order to get to her I'd have to drive through the heart of downtown in crazy thick, after-work-just-got-paid, rush-hour traffic. So I wasn't too keen on this idea from the start. I had good intentions though. Remember, I did say that I was going to start mingling more, accepting social invites and sifting through frogs to kiss. So when I got off work at 4:30pm, I tried to psyche myself up on the 15 minute drive home. Had the music pumping, getting into GEAR. Then I walked in the door and saw my beloved couch. And next to it was the remote. And on the ottoman was my computer. And in the fridge was all kinds of goodies because I had just gone to Costco. And I had been up since 6am that morning, after all.
Clearly, my ass has a mind of its own because I stripped out of my work get-up and before I knew it I was in my skivvies, my booty was making out with my comfy couch, the remote in one hand, my laptop on my lap, and a quart of peach Haagen Daz sorbet in my other hand. And the longer I sat there in wedded bliss, the more excuses I came up with for not going out. I just couldn't get excited about getting dolled up, driving for roughly 45 minutes, to sit in a bar with a bunch of obnoxious men, mentally sifting through frogs, and then going home even MORE tired. See, my cuzzo and her boyfriend have been arguing a lot lately and are on the cusp of breaking up. During the last game they literally duked it out right outside of ESPN Zone at LA Live for all to see. She won. He's 50 and a drunk. They've been fighting because he's been cheating, which she admits is the way all of his friends and male relatives operate. They have a main girl, and about 10 side boos. Okay, maybe not quite 10, but still. Knowing this, I was far from turned on about going to chill with these folks. Zero motivation indeed, since I already knew that 50% of the place was going to be filled with unkissable, cheating-heart toads. I figured it'd be a waste of time, effort, and gas. An exercise in futility. Yet I felt guilty because I said I was going to start hanging out more. Ah well. Maybe next time.
I'm going out for a jog. brb...
Okay, I'm back! And while I was out, this chubby little down syndrome looking guy (kid? teen? I can't be sure) crossed a busy street and was walking towards me smiling. I had my headphones on thinking, this kid is going to want to talk I bet but I don't have time. So as I approach him he smiles harder and shoves a pen and a letter-sized, blank piece of paper in my direction. I don't know if he said anything because I was rocking out with my ipod on, so I just smiled back and yelled "Oh, hi! Thank you but I don't have time." And I kept it moving. Then I got to the corner and it hit me. Was he trying to mack me for my phone number? lol. Is this what it's come to!? HAHAHA! Oh lordy, me. I'm being picked up by limping, fat, down syndrome teenagers.
I was supposed to go to brunch today but it doesn't look like that will be happening either.
In other news! My mumsie hit a hullabaloo of a jackpot while in Laughlin, Nevada this weekend for my step dads birthday. She called me on their way back to Cali excited, saying that she has the money ($1,100) for my carpet that she promised me, AND the money for our upcoming jazz tickets ($177). "I won a grand!" she said, trying not to let her "left hand" who was driving, know what the right hand is doing. ;) YAY MAMA! I can't wait to find out just exactly how much she really won.