<p style="text-align:center;"><em>By Guest Blogger Chicken Wrangler Sara</em></p>
We bought a new mattress last week. After 17 years we thought it was about time.  It was delivered on Saturday.

Perhaps that explains my confusion.

I slept fine on the new mattress until sometime after midnight when I awoke with a start and thought, “I didn’t put my swim bag out.”

Monday-Friday mornings I swim at 5:30 a.m. before my body can wake up and realize what is going on. I normally put my swimsuit and shoes in the bathroom and my swim bag in the living room the night before so I can leave without making any noise. This morning was going to be tricky.

When my alarm went off at 5 a.m., I quietly got my swim bag from the closet and then tried to locate my shoes in the dark.

I have two pair of Crocs – one red and one turquoise. I have been known to appear at the breakfast table wearing one of each.  Since I was not going to eat breakfast before I swam, I wanted to make sure my shoes matched each other.

<a href="https://judythewriter.files.wordpress.com/2014/09/crocs.png"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-5181" src="http://judythewriter.files.wordpress.com/2014/09/crocs.png?w=168" alt="crocs" width="168" height="300" /></a>Remembering my probability and statistics course, I grabbed three crocs knowing that two would match.

I headed into the bathroom where I found a dress hanging in front of my swimsuit.  I moved it and began to put on my suit.

I thought, “What did I fix for Sunday lunch? I don’t remember Sunday lunch?”

Then it dawned on me it was Sunday – not Monday. That was why my swim bag was in the closet and my clothes were hanging in front of my suit.

The change of having a new mattress had messed up my internal calendar.

So I jumped into the shower and got dressed for church, leaving my shoes and my suit in the bathroom. When I went back into the bathroom that afternoon, my shoes were still there.

What amazed me was that neither my husband nor son said anything about the three shoes. I guess they have grown so accustomed to my idiosyncrasies that they hardly notice.