I need a metaphor

I desperately need a metaphor for my enslavement to this tome but I am too enraptured by Martin's prose to think of one that works.  First I considered comparing the book to a drowning man who has only seawater to drink; he drinks more and more but his thirst can never be slaked.  That works to explain the intense need to keep reading, to see more, that no amount is enough, but the book is awesome and drinking seawater is awful so the metaphor fails.

I then thought to compare the need to read the book to the lust of a 18 year old virgin - impossible to contain, impossible to deny, and even once the act is done the 18 year old is ready for more almost immediately.  Unfortunately the 18 year old is normally is desperately worried that they will do something wrong and thinks that if they don't do it *right now* the chance will never come again and that isn't true here.  I can't do anything wrong and I know the book will wait.

Perhaps I could compare my addiction to this work to being addicted to crack?  The unrelenting desire for that next hit, the joy of submission to the desire, the warm glow of knowing that for right now the cravings are gone and all I can see is beauty?  Maybe, but I don't get the sense of guilt that comes along with crack, nor is there a harsh down at the end.  (Not that I have tried crack, mind you, but one hears of these things.)

The only thing that really comes close is the flow that comes with a brand new video game.  I remember playing Civ 1 back in high school and looking up at the clock thinking I would go to bed early at 10:30 and seeing 1:15... and then after playing 'just 1 more turn' finally getting into bed at 4:00.  I am lost in a world of dragons and warlocks, knights and royalty, swords and sorcery.  I have been reading for 6+ hours a day and it just isn't enough.

I have ripped through all 4 of the earlier books and am halfway through A Dance With Dragons.  Please Martin, write faster.  I need MORE!  I can't even find a simple metaphor for my addiction, my brain can only think of running back into the other room, cracking open the book and

Ahhhhh yeah.  Just like that.