It's a fairly common practice among writers and readers to cozy up with a book in a specific location - a carved, pastoral niche in an otherwise crazy day/messy house/restless mind.
With the advent of the e-reader (which I rapturously and erroneously thought would make me some sort of super reader, getting in a few lines at all hours of the day or night - anytime, anyplace), I'm finding my reading niche slowly piling up with laundry. Literally.
If I can make a late New Year's Res (since I only purchased the reader at the tail end of Dec and couldn't know what wonders and devastations it would wreak upon my reading habits, it seems only fair):
Reading niche must remain laundry-free. It's like a prayer closet, a holy, sanctified place, and it musn't be left to the whims of an agent/writer who overestimates the power of a portable, electronic library. Reading niche must not become her glorified clothes basket.
As a side note, my official position on e-readers: they belong in reading niches as much as the next sexy hardback.