My mom complains that I never finish my drink. "Why do you have to leave some juice in your glass, just drink it, drink it all. You're wasting it, letting it sit there all day. Who's gonna clean that glass? Your mom, the maid?" And it's true. I did always leave about a centimeter of whatever it was I was drinking in my cup. And I would always leave that cup holding the last bit of my spittle and my juice right by the sink, as if I couldn't decide for myself whether or not I will waste the liquid and wash the glass or save it for later. And why is it that even when you've noticed you have a funny habit about something, you are still impaired to fix it?

And since when is love a funny habit?

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