^ That. The only one that I seriously regret was the all-nighter to read Follett's sequel to Pillars of the Earth-- World Without End-- only to find that nothing particularly horrible happened to any of those awful people that he'd been making me feel profound apathy to disgust over for a thousand pages and change. If it hadn't been a library book, I might have lit it on fire at the conclusion of that 1100 pages and 12 hours of my life that I'm never getting back... mad I waited over a month for that copy, too.

--Ahem. blush

But mostly, I never regret my late-night reading. DD is guilty of it, as well, and has been since she learned to read. Oops. Apples, trees. I can recall reading by hallway light at night-- in the gap under my bedroom door. I can even recall reading by moonlight a few times when I was in elementary school. My mother was convinced it was going to ruin my eyes. It seems not, since I only need reading glasses even now in my fifth decade of late-night reading.

Schrödinger's cat walks into a bar. And doesn't.