baking + sleep debt = (?)

This has kind of been one of those slap-your-forehead weeks. I think I'm honestly running at a sleep debt which is impairing my cognitive capabilities, as seen on:

Tuesday: Forgot that my undergrad class had a movie that night (admittedly, was very tired from turning in prospectus and 3 days of little sleep). Had already put blue clay facemask on neck in a few spots. Ran out of the house to make movie, 20 minutes late. Wasn't quite sure if I made it to the right room until I saw one of my students, who saw that I was confused with the dark room, and who then nodded at me, for which I inwardly thought "Man, you get an A." Realized halfway through movie that I still had blue facemask in a few spots on neck. Weighed possibility of staying in room and washing mask off after movie, decided that missing part of movie was worth not being a complete tool, proceeded to bathroom. Strange glances I had received en route made a lot more sense.

Tonight: Am making a test-run of the treacle sponge that I want to make for our dinner on Saturday. Recipe is in British, and I don't speak grams or ounces. Find recipe converter online, and happily proceed with steamed pudding. Am concerned that pudding mold is going to be hard to get open, and am more nervous than when I usually cook. Also realize that I have no softened butter, which I then rush out to buy and then soften by holding it in my hands/lap/etc. (okay, fine, I tried tucking it under my arms, because when we'd go skiing, that was the way we warmed up our hands). Then realize I have no brown sugar, and thank god for New York corner stores. Happily proceed with ingredients, using equal measures of flour, butter, and sugar. Get everything into pot, add hot water, and then return to computer with sneaking suspicion that, although recipe converter said that 6 oz of butter = 3/4 cup and 6 oz flour = 3/4 cup, this just cannot be true. Find more accurate gram converter in fine print on website (you bastards) and realize that I needed 1 & 1/3 cups flour to my 3/4 cups butter.

This is why I do not like baking. There is no way for me to fix it, I just have to wait to unmold. I like baking even less when it involves simple math. It was very, to me, Bridget Jones. We're all trying to be mature and accomplished, really.

My mom is probably the only person who remembers that when I took cooking in junior high (we had old-fashioned home ec and shop, yes), I forgot to put the flour into my chocolate chip cookies. Only happened once, but that was interesting. And flat. Likewise I once switched out baking soda for baking powder, and had little chocolate-chip pucks rather than cookies. And right now, my mom is also slapping her forehead. Not too hard, Mom...

This time around, I am reminded of something this sweet Belgian post-doc I had coffee with today said about the QWERTY keyboard and how she couldn't handle it, the letters were wrong -- globalization can only go so far. Translating is weird. And it certainly didn't help me make my dessert tonight.

--> UPDATE: tastes phenomenal, just like I remember. A bit...dense. But not unsalvagable.