I told my mother yesterday that I would stop smoking when it became the focus of my life, when I could no longer live life because of it. But working too much, that is life, masquerades as life. Work six days a week, and every other day you have off, and people don't think you're strung out. People don't think you're a fucking junkie. Working too much is healthy, productive, okay.
I can't live life because of it.
Addiction, shmaddiction.