It's Gonna Punch You Straight in the Baby Maker

I'm not really sure how it happened...but it seems as soon as I turned 30 life wanted to start a new era whether I approved of it or not. I don't know if there is a ticking time bomb that only activates when you turn 30, but whatever I choose to accredit it too (depending on the day and circumstance) it is there, and it's activated, and not gonna lie...it's kind of unrelenting. I don't want to drink or smoke or even wake up next to someone I don't love...what's wrong with this picture? I'm really finding no pleasure in these things...and it all happened out of no where. I would liken to assume that some people would say it's depression...but that would mean I find pleasure in nothing...which is false. So that can't be it. (On a side note: Aren't those things signs of a sort of depression...blocking the world out by numbing so to speak?) It just completely stumps me that no matter how many years I've tried to stop these bad habits and tried consciously choosing to do alternative things to trick myself into not wanting to do them (and failed most often miserably enough to render me to have plenty of stories of the dumb things I've done to pass onto posterity sake when I'm old and wrinkly), I've always had the urge to get into trouble and be a little on the wild side. Had I been privy to this information it would have made much more sense to indulge myself until the time bomb so chose to activate.
I feel like one day I woke up and started caring about everything. I'm finding myself valuing completely different things and not having as much fun with the old stuff. I'm finding it's more satisfying doing things like going to yard sales, cleaning my house, reading a good book, reminiscing, writing, listening/playing music, spending time with people that make me laugh until my stomach muscles hurt the next day like I did an insanity an work out, and just actually caring enough to remember and live my life. It's like someone flicked the switch and put me in Suzie homemaker mode even though I have no reason to be in it. No one warns you about this...I guess cuz "they" knew we would have probably partied harder (if that's humanly possible) if we knew there was an end to the madness at an undisclosed time. Logically I can only assume this experience is what people refer to as the biological clock and what I will lovingly will refer to as the decade that punched me straight in the baby maker.