Fell off the wagon.
In fact I didn't fall, I threw myself off and rolled in the dust for five hours last night and I'm still doing it today. I've been awake 6hrs: 2hrs of that has been productive, 4hrs spent in a fantasy.
If daydreaming were a real problem it would have been DSMed to death years ago. So it's an imaginary problem. Irony alert.
The problem is my having problem with it. It doesn't hurt anyone, no-one even knows, I'm no less productive than the average TV watcher, what good is feeling angry or empty when I might just as well be feeling content. No-one cares if I do it or not. So why do I care? I don't understand it, or me or anything.