this can't be a good sign

So I'm sitting on the couch at the cafe at the Place on Sunday, and I'm chatting with my friend Dawn, when she suddenly says, "Okay, I have to ask--what's with the two different shoes?" I stare at her with a blank expression until she says, "Oh, you mean you don't...oh." I look down, and, sure enough, I am wearing shoes from two different pairs--one black, and one brown. And not only are they different colours, but they are completely different styles. This fashion failure begs two questions: a) how did I actually put on shoes of different colours, styles, and indeed heights? and, perhaps more importantly b) how did I go three hours without noticing that I was wearing shoes of different colours, styles, and indeed heights? So for those of you who did notice my footwear faux pas, no, I did not purposely wear shoes from two different pairs in a misguided attempt at cool individualism--I'm just that scatterbrained. Or maybe it's God's way of telling me that I need a day off.