The Years Do Roll On

Today I decided to put off writing by doing a little house-cleaning. I started with the basics: dishes, sink, toilet, laundry. Since I have to use coin-operated laundry machines, I decided to handwash some handwashables in the freshly cleaned bathroom sink. I pulled out my Woolite, and lo and behold it had turned a dark brown color, like Coke before it's carbonated.

Of course I poured it into the sink and washed my bras anyway, but the whole time I was calculating how long it had been since I last used Woolite. Not in this apartment, and not in the house I shared last year, so it must be from the house before, which puts us at 2006 at the latest. But likely 2005.

Then I considered that it could have been even earlier. I might have bought that bottle of Woolite when I lived in Manhattan (2003-04).

The deeper question underlying the discovery of my brown Woolite is this: Am I really old enough to have carried around a bottle of Woolite for four years, through at least as many moves? I mean "old" in the sense that I've been responsible enough to handwash my "delicates" and obtain the proper cleaning supplies to do so. I also mean "old" in the sense that I have become so immured in my things that when I move, I just take everything along without editing any of the contents. Either way, what does this bode for my future?

Only one thing is certain: when I leave this apartment in June, my boxes will be one bottle of molasses-colored goo lighter.