I'm afraid [or am very glad] to say that my ice cube addiction did NOT take over my life and become an all-consuming obsession. In this sense, my cube problem was shallow, a mere five o'clock shadow, if you will, to the full beard and porn 'stache of a true drug addiction.
As my all-nighters at Harmony have shown, it is much easier for peeps with busy social lives to hide an addiction from their family. Because I was chillin' at a cafe all night, my parents had no clue to my horrendous secret. They never guessed that I was secretly tripping on ice cubes in Italian soda (a kinky street practice). I suspect that people with parents who really super trust them such as my own and people whose parents really don't give a crap would have the easiest time sustaining a drug habit (the former because they'd never suspect a thing, the latter, well, does exactly what it says on the tin).
Unfortunately for the simulation of this exercise, it was rather easier to obtain ice cubes from my freezer than to obtain fine powdered cocaine, and thus I did not have to engage in much deceit or surprising actions to get my fix.
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