I gave my spiel about such lightweight topics as money, financial planning, and how I plan to live the rest of my ephemeral human life. Naturally people had some questions and thoughts of their own to contribute, and I’m more than happy to bring those into the mix.

Any reason you’re using an ETF instead of a mutual fund? I don’t see the soundness in the incurring fees on a brokerage account.

It’s been long enough.

I took my sweet time getting around to actually doing it, and then almost another month on top of that to start writing this post about it, but we’re here now. And that’s what really matters, right?

So anyway, you might remember “The Hole” from that time that birds always insisted on pecking at it, or that other time that I MacGyver’d a drainage solution to avoid waking up in a truck-shaped rainwater swimming pool. Looking back, I had every intention of paying another human being money to fix this particular problem. That all changed once I received an email from Nancy (over at PK Safety), who, like BoscoBob before her, knows way more about fixing my problems than I do.

Desiccant.

I really enjoy the way that word sounds. It’s like a discount version of decadent, except that it hasn’t been soiled by rampant overuse in chocolate commercials. I was curious as to its etymology which, as you’ll see above, isn’t nearly as exciting as I’d hoped. I had never even heard of the word until a reader, known only to me as “BoscoBob”, brought it up in an email.

It’s been a while (six months almost to the day) since I did my last big Home Improvement post, and I think it’s about high time we changed that. Not only because a lack of Home Improvement posts signals stagnancy on the front of truck-progress, but also because there is much to be improved upon truck-wise, and I should be more proactive and motivated to work on it. This, as is likely evident from the title, is just a “Mini” Home Improvement project, but there are two fairly large ones that I’ve yet to write about, so expect those soon eventually.

I noted early on that I wasn’t the only sketchy-looking vehicle on campus. And the longer I’ve been doing this, the keener my eye has gotten to the subtle, but telltale signs of “unconventional” or otherwise “alternative” living situations: windows tinted a little too deeply, parking just slightly farther away from a building than everyone else, a few scattered blankets on the back seat. It was nothing more than conjecture and supposition until I made contact with another truck-person. Even then though, there were seven or eight cars I was seeing all the time, and they certainly kept me wondering.