Sometimes I think of myself as [a four-letter word that means CRAZY]. Take the situation between one of my friends and me. He and I can share a book. We can share a good laugh. We can share a bowl of soup or an apple, and get along as perfectly pleasant human beings.

Ah, and here’s the [three-letter word Hamlet used for OBSTACLE]. We cannot share The New York Times. You ask why? Well, can you think of a four-letter word that means BITTER FIGHT?

That’s right, he and I feud over the daily crossword puzzle in the Times. In a relationship that is otherwise amicable, we become mean, greedy and sneaky when it comes to that grid of 15-by-15 blocks with black spots in it. Often, I want to call him a [seven-letter Yiddish word for CREEP].

I’ve stolen the paper off his desk. Hidden it in my work bag. Told him I haven’t seen it that day at all, no sir. George took it, I say.

But it’s all lies, lies, lies.

Fact is, I have a terrible problem, which, after watching a recent TV series about addiction, might be more of a [seven-letter word for SICKNESS]. It’s true: I have a disease.

Now, I’ve never killed anyone for nipping my crossword puzzle, or worse, for filling in the unfinished one I left in the [eight-letter word for POWDER ROOM] and planned to get back to later, thank you very much. But it’s not unthinkable that I might miss, say, a school board meeting because I want to stick with figuring out a [four-letter word for HINT].

One day recently, I was talking to a business associate in [12-letter word for CITY IN CALIFORNIA, first letter “s,” last letter “o”]. I mentioned finishing the Times crossword puzzle that day. This is a man I’ve spoken to once in my life and exclusively about business. But I recognized a fellow puzzler. “Oh, really?” he said. “I just couldn’t handle those full columns of white boxes. What’d’ya get for one down, anyway?”

Honestly, crossword puzzles turn me into a [four-letter word for COMPULSIVE CONSUMER]. Yes, I’m a user. In a big way. We’re talking a potential 12-stepper here. CPA. Crossword Puzzlers Anonymous. And I use a pen. Once I’ve filled in that first set of boxes, it’s over. There’s no turning back.

Here’s how I know I’ve lost my [eight-letter word for AGGIES].

1. Will Shortz, crossword editor at the Times and puzzle master on National Public Radio’s Weekend Edition, is my [four-letter word for IDOL].

2. In a recent conversation with the man who handles all the newspaper subscriptions at work, I made the argument that I should be allowed to expense a private subscription to the Times for professional enrichment, and besides (I snuck this part in) every writer should do crossword puzzles. Right, he said in a perspicacious tone that clearly stamped my request with [two-letter word for FORGET IT, KIDDO].

3. I’d rather do a crossword puzzle than eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk ice cream.

4. The most exciting day of my adult life was when I completed my first Friday Times crossword puzzle.

(A note for nonpuzzlers: The Times puzzle is considered the big [six-letter Hawaiian word for CHIEF] of newspaper crosswords, and it gets harder as the week goes on. Monday is a solver’s dream — 15 minutes, max. But by Saturday or, worse, Sunday, we’re talking the whole day, possibly a week on the bedside table and with humbling results.)

Last week, a new book called “Crossword Puzzles for Dummies” showed up on my desk. It’s one of those ubiquitous yellow books that you see in every field these days — computers, gardening, food and beverage, hardware — all for dummies. This one is written and edited by Michelle Arnot, an 18th century French literature specialist who did a crossword puzzle rather than a thesis as a graduate student at [seven-letter word for NEW YORK IVY LEAGUE SCHOOL].

Arnot, who lives in London, gives all sorts of tips for solving crosswords, some history of crosswords, and audacious steps puzzlers might take into brave new worlds of conundrums. Ever done an acrostic? Personally, I could care less about other types of puzzles, except maybe the occasional Jumble.

I’m not sure who would go to a manual to learn about crosswords. Dummies, I guess. But the only way to improve in this game is to do more puzzles, not read about them. That’s why I do two a day, three if I can grab my buddy’s USA Today.

The best part of Arnot’s book is that we crossword junkies, 50 million strong each year, will find vindication and connection to others of our kind. We’re the types that know ELIA is a noted essayist. That ASTI is a famous wine district. That TARO is a poi source. That’s to say nothing of OLIO, ETTA, ETNA, ASTA, EMU, ERN, TERN and EGRET. We just plain delight in the prefixes and suffixes, Greek letters and poetic contractions that have no other practical application whatsoever in the real world. I mean, who IS Mel Ott, anyway?

Call me [five-letter word for WHAT ARE YOU, NUTS?]. But a satisfying puzzle is like good, wholesome [three-letter word for JOLLY DIVERSION].

That last word, by the way, is “fun.” Unless, of course, you’re trying to steal my Times. And then we’re talking all out [three-letter word for NOT SO JOLLY DIVERSION].