Random Ramblings Are Random

My room is mostly de-cluttered! And I have a new-to-me desk that I picked up today from what has become my new favourite furniture thrift store. The desk was a spur of the moment thing, honestly. I saw it on FB, posted by Again & Again, sent a message to my partner in crime, and she immediately contacted me back saying she'd take me to go get it. It was by the cash desk at the store, and I was in the process of paying for it when another customer put her hands on it. I excitedly told her that I was just buying it, that I had also posted on the FB picture that I was coming for it. Wooo! All mine! I didn't put it into my room right away. I needed to finish the decluttering process I had started earlier in the day first. It was something I had been putting away for too long. And now it's pretty much done. I do have a couple of bins/bags left to go to, but now the majority of the mess it gone. And I cleaned out the bottom of my closet finally, something I had been avoiding.

Slowly but surely I am decluttering my bedroom. I don't really have much choice in the matter, because I have way too much stuff. Most of said stuff are things I have held onto out of some psychological need to not get rid of things that I have bought with some use in mind or things that people have given to me. And tonight, as I was doing yet another round of decluttering, I figured out why I do it. When I was growing up it was nothing for my mother to get pissed off at me and throw out anything she decided was 'junk'. And it was only junk to her because she didn't see any personal need for whatever it was I owned. Not to mention her pathological need to simply destroy me in any way she possible could. I lost count of how many times she would 'punish' me by tearing posters and pictures off of my walls, screaming as she did so for some perceived slight that I had visited on her. So, once I was finally out of her clutches, I started to hoard stuff. It was mine an

The man I love has cancer. I've known for a couple of weeks now, and I've been doing my best to wrap my head around it. I've also always known that it was a matter of time before he got it again. It's never been an 'if' situation, especially as he's been fighting it off and on for a lot of years. Hell, when I first met him he was dealing with stomach cancer. I had the chance to spend some time with him today. It was one of his better days - he had some colour to his face, and was up to having sex. He initiated as I'm worried that I'm going to hurt him or something. And it was almost like he was afraid it would be his last time being able to do anything like that with me. He was determined to make sure that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Which I definitely did, as usual. But it was all tinged with a bit of sadness, because who knows how many good days he has left? And all of his exes are making his life miserable because they all think they should be gettin