What happened to the rockstar?

I woke up at 6 a.m. wondering how I became the responsible person who is asleep by 11 p.m. when she has a class to teach (unless she is scrambling to meet a deadline, finishing prep work, or grading overdue papers). I--in the not so distant past--used to drink and carouse until 2 a.m., crawl out from under a boy approximately 45 minutes before class, and fight waves of nausea as I proceeded to get showered and out the door in the most haphazard of fashions. I mean, this was s.o.p. at least one, maybe two, nights/mornings a week. And all went perfectly fine in the classroom, maybe as good as (or better than?) it does now.

I know the scenario I describe does not sound pleasant, especially the nausea part, and I was not so happy exactly a week ago when I woke up with an obnoxious hangover, a Feste in my bed, and far too little time to get myself into proper professor mode. That morning as I drove to school I in fact swore off such behavior for the rest of the semester. Despite the swirling head and guilty panic (that I might have disastrous classes and/or throw up in class and/or die), my classes went fine.

I know I am being "responsible" and ultimately I am "taking care of myself" by not trying to be a rockstar and a professor all at the same time. Still, I think I miss the carefree chick who could pull it off and never think twice about it.