Maybe everything we do in life, is to pass the time, so we don't notice all the time, that our time is passing.
Charles Beaudelaire wrote a delightful true poem about a, maybe, non-confronting way of living in which wine, poetry or any other passion will help us to make the passing of (our) time bearable. Charles Beaudelaire wrote this poem in 1857 in the poetry bundle: "les fleurs du mal." In a strange way the workaholic, and the alcoholic seem to be the same kind of refugees.
Almost every cover of this bundle has an illustration of fair flowers, but things are never what they seem..., a good reason to stay attentive and curious.