Unproductive Sloth & the Autopilot button

Today I feel like an unproductive sloth. After no sleep due to the little wee one who had me up all night (literally all night from 9:30 PM - 5 AM screaming) in teething pain. I feel somewhat on par with a Sloth who has taken too many sleeping pills and chased those down with a bottle of Everclear and a horse tranquilizer. My speech is horrific... it's like I've regressed to a 6 month old and am limited to babble, but mostly just random Ga's and MMMmmmm's. I can barely function at all, and as an added bonus I appear to have lost all gross motor skills. Today I am an actual up close visual of the de-evolution of Homo Sapien. Using my legs this morning was an interesting experiment. I barely got one leg out of the bed before falling into a pile of bones and flesh on the floor. Maybe my bones have turned to that flexible cartilage like the kinds that squids and other cephalopods have? Maybe the aliens from the mushrooms outside DID sneak into the house last night while I was half awake implanting devices in my brain through my ear canal and now they are controlling my body functions. I can feel the alien mushroom cells multiplying in my DNA and dividing in my amoeba right now.

Quite frankly, I'm surprised I was even able to get out the door this morning to bring big kid to camp. Or pick her up on time. I did have two large 16 oz. coffees by 9 AM, chased by two red bulls before 12 PM - but neither the coffee or the red bulls have made a mark in my sheer exhaustion. My only saving grace is my ability to function via the autopilot button (it often takes over on days like this one). Somewhere in the middle of the night the empathy fairy presses the autopilot for me, and I wake up with the amazing ability to function on a normal level throughout the day as if I had a full 8 hours sleep. Not realizing what has actually happened, I continue moving through my day: picking up mail, making formula, feeding baby, feeding self, folding laundry, doing dishes, responding to business registration mailings, tax docs, etc. All without so much as a blink.

The autopilot button has been summoned in the past, and I am becoming quite fond of it actually. Those mornings in my early 20's when I was seriously hungover, and could barely muster up the skill to nourish myself with a bite of saltines. Then there is the all too familiar death job that sucks the life force out of you and your soul... you know that job that expects you to work the amount of four different positions for the pay of less than one? Not to mention the hours of this soul sucking position: usually it's 27/8... it's 27 hours a day / 8 days per week. Companies this despicable actually have their own special 8
th circle of hell where the hours in a day and days in the week are longer then the normal earthly plane. If you do try to sleep or are caught at work doing this in this 8th circle of hell you are immediately inflicted with taser-like shocks to the system (similar only to a bolt of lightening). Yes, I have worked at one of these big *you're-a-number* companies before. Yes, it consumed my very being and was about to ultimately eat my soul. Only I was lucky enough to make a deal with Satan for a better life with the husband (then the boyfriend) instead of horrid company and now I'm out of that forever. Now I'm living in happy shiny land - AND I still got to keep my soul (for now). Although I am still not convinced the jury is out regarding whether or not I'll be flying commercial flights for Satan Air after this earthly realm. So if you are looking for good deals on Business Class, I can hook you up.

Wow, the autopilot button came in REAL handy then.

As I'm writing this I am watching Charlie and the Chocolate factory with big kid.
Random thought:

*Maybe there is a market for soul sucking candy?*

"Soul Sucka"... a lollipop so good you actually will go to hell after eating one.

, hell.