Spoke Too Soon.

I had just finished penning yesterday's post when my wife came up to me with exciting news. A friend of ours was willing to buy a moldy old pile of camper and I would have carte blanche in terms of finances to resurrect it. Isn't that wonderful?
 
No. No it's not. Not only no, but fuck no.
 
There's several reasons for my refusal.
  1. It's far beyond salvage. Basically what you'd be getting for the far-too-high asking price is a trailer base of questionable serviceability, a few windows, some hardware, and the aluminum sheeting to use as a template. It would be a ground-up rebuild, with all of the fun that entails. Just to get it to the non-death trap stage would deplete the proposed "unlimited" budget. It's a really cute and unique design, but that's all it is.
  2. I have no room for such a large project. These things need space, and I've imposed upon the neighbors enough. An off-site location was purposed, but that would limit the number of hours I could work on it. There would be no "popping out to work on a small project". Everything would have to be planned and scheduled, and I don't do planning and scheduling.
  3. I like riding my bike, and this would eat up all of my time if I wanted it to be off my plate by the time the snow flies.
  4. My body is falling apart well enough as it is. I don't need the additional strain.
So, my bulwark against poorly-conceived projects failed miserably. My self-discipline, which is usually the weakest link in the chain, had to step up and carry the weight. Thankfully it held this time.
 
Maybe one day, when I have more time and resources to devote to such things, I'll take on such an undertaking. However, right now I have more than enough on my plate.
 
Freed from the looming threat of this project, I went for a long ride in the sun. I think that was the wiser choice.

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