Let's talk sleep deprivation

How do you feel when you've barely slept for several consecutive days?
I start out overconfident and then drastically crash the second day. The morning after the first night of poor sleep, I actually wake up feeling kind of hyper and all adrenaline-buzzed. I'm chipper, I'm alert, I pour myself an enormous mug of coffee and think, "Hey, this really isn't that bad!" I might even have a good day and foolishly pat myself on the back at the end of it.
Then Day 2 arrives.
Day 2 is cruel. Day 2 reminds me that no, Maureen, you can't actually overcome the laws of biology and maintain satisfactory performance when you've slept only nine of the past 48 hours. I wake up on Day 2 feeling like an overweight person is standing on my face, driving his heels into my eyeballs. My body is uncoordinated. My brain is sandy. Speaking hardly seems worth the effort. As the day continues, my patience is thin, my sense of humor has disintegrated, and my bones hurt. Tasks comprising three steps or more seem herculean and confusing. My inner eyelids burn.
Day 3 is the breaking point. I am unable to cope; I'll cry when I find we're out of quarters for the washing machine AND Maya has just spilled her orange juice on the kitchen floor. Life is so hard, so demanding, so ultimately depressing! What's the point of it all, etc. etc. etc. That's Day 3.
I never knew sleep deprivation until these past few years, and then I still didn't know cumulative sleep deprivation until our darling girl came along. Wouldn't trade her for nine hours of solid, uninterrupted sleep, but I would trade almost anything else.