Because my father had an absolute fit if anyone had a light on past a certain hour--"I'm paying the bills here, you're not!"--I would read with a flashlight under the sheet of my bed. Then, I read many a book in the sunlight on the beach, at the lake--wherever I had to wait hours and hours while my husband had "just one more worm" for his fish hook. Since I am now paying for this optical abuse, I no longer practice such bad habits.
I do still neglect to eat or sleep if there is a mesmerizing novel that earns my rapt attention. Then, I mourn the loss of this "friend" when having finished the narrative.