Anybody seen my brain?

So, I was trying to be fun and take the kids for a bike ride. Clearly I've never done this before. We've got a bike trailer hooked up to Matt's bike and he has always taken them. So I get the bike out of the garage and get the kids all buckled. I made sure that I had my keys and I closed the garage and ran out before getting squished.
But, I forgot to fill up the water bottle so I grab that and my keys and go to the front door. Well, the screen door was locked (thanks, Alex) and I don't have a key for that. I was a bit miffed about being locked out of the house, but I went around back to try a window. There is a door to the garage that is supposed to be locked, but amazingly, it wasn't. So I get in without much trouble, fill up the water bottle, unlock the screen door, and head out. I thought I was ready when I realized that I left the water bottle inside. So I get my keys and head back in. Once back outside, I decided that I wanted my watch, so I get the keys from Alex AGAIN, and grab the watch. Finally ready to go, and about to mount the thing, I notice that the seat is way too high, because, after all, this is Matt's bike. So back in again to grab a ruddy tool for some leverage. I fix the seat, go back in to replace the tool and NOW I am ready. As I start to pedal, it dawns on me that I forgot my helmet. Forget it, Sarah--just don't crash and die.

Yes, that is right, 5 extra trips inside. I'll have you know that I was just going to post this little bike incident, but I outdid myself and had another bout of brain dead-ness--read on:

This last weekend Matt and I met up in Nauvoo, Il. We were going to camp Saturday night, so I had to get all the camping stuff together. So, I thought that I did pretty good, but it turns out I forgot some things here, too. I forgot the can opener, so Matt had to use a rock. I forgot a tarp, but it stopped raining in the afternoon, so it was okay. I didn't bring a pocket knife, sweaters for me or the kids, any kind of towel for a shower, I packed the wrong bottle of BBQ sauce, and I didn't pack matches. The matches. They used to be in the van all the time, but Matt took them out to light fireworks and never put them back. So, I'm looking in the glove box, just to be sure, and these are my thoughts, "Man, it's too bad, I know there are some matches in the glove box of our other car." I look in my red bag that has my toothbrush and stuff, because I used to keep a lighter in there. No lighter. We needed to start dinner so I go to the nearest gas station. I come back, a dollar twelve poorer, and Matt says, "Too bad we don't have cell phones, because about 30 seconds after you drove off I found some matches in my bathroom bag." Oh well. It takes me another 20 min or so to realize that I drove to the gas station in our OTHER CAR---yep, the one with the stupid matches in the glove box. What is my problem?? They were there in three different places the whole time: Matt's bag, the glove box, and my red bag. Oh yeah, there was a book of matches in there, too. But since I was looking for a lighter.....well, I'm a moron.

Did someone slip me drugs when I wasn't looking?