you might suspect, given my cyber nom de plume, that i read more than what is considered normal, especially in modern society where entertainment tends to be focused on small, glittery electronic gadgets which create all manner of pixelated images and enhanced decibel sounds.
well, you would be absolutely correct in your assumption. given the choice of listening to music, seeing a theatrical production, or watching a television program, i would most often choose reading, preferring to closet myself away with a good book than to have my senses assailed with images from a screen, no matter how wide.
however, because my life is more often than not consumed with the minutiae of modern existence, i’m occasionally forced to pursue my reading addiction in rather dangerous ways. i have given up reading whilst driving, succumbing instead to the safer version of audio books, which, while unsatisfying on a purely tactile level, is certainly preferable to the drivel of local radio stations, and assists me in working through the ever mounting bookstack which is my “to be read” list.
still, i often read during meals, unsociable as that may sound, taking my lunch break from work relatively early so as to creep into the lunchroom alone, book in hand, and allow myself a few moments escape from the workaday details of medical malpractice and insurance culpability. of course, the bath provides an oasis of reading opportunity, and is a sublimely comforting place to lose oneself in a steamy novel. (sorry, couldn’t resist) and of course, lying snugly in bed propped up with several plump pillows, i allow stories to lull me to sleep each night, and then coax me awake in the morning.
so, where is the danger in that? you wonder. well, consider the effect of those moist whorls of lavender scented air wafting from the heated waters of the tub, not to mention the peril of a sleepy, relaxed reader who just might lose her grip on the edges of the cover. and what about the broth from my favorite minestrone soup, which, quite without provocation, seems to leap from my cup and onto the pristine white pages of the book propped open so gingerly against the salt and pepper shakers. not to mention the potential danger to my personal safety when one of those oversized tomes collapses from my dozing grip and lands directly upon my nose.
oh my, this reading life is perilous indeed.
now tell me, do you have any dangerous reading habits?
~postscript: in reading your comments, it appears we’re all willing to risk considerable peril to snatch a few more precious moments of reading time! Now I’m wondering…where is the most unusual place you’ve ever read??