Pipe Dreams

I need a new Camaro

I woke up last week with a new revelation.  I WANT a new Camaro.  Bad.  I think I’ve gone mad.  And now I’m kind of sad.  JS said that I better get a roomy version because if I brought home a new car I’d have to live in it…  Dream crusher.

It was like I woke one day and I was struck with a bolt of consumerism lightening.  It’s a very disturbing feeling because I have not EVER wanted a brand new car.  One: I have always been a poor student and now I’m a poor newish business owner, and Two:  I’m a Virgo with a huge OCD complex and given my poor driving history…  New car + dent and/or scratch = months of therapy and/or costly insurance claims.

I KNOW better.  I READ Dave Ramsey.  I ALMOST have a savings account!

And now I’m a hypocrite because waaaaay back in the day I even tried to convince JS that a brand new “Farm Truck” was a really bad idea.  He had his “Aha! She was right” moment, when a week after its purchase the farm gate smashed into its side.  And again a few months later when he took out a few reflector posts in a well executed side slide right into a ditch.  (Now listen here, just because one of those accidents was my fault doesn’t mean that a new truck was a wise acquisition.)

AND THEN more recently I discovered that not only did I really, really WANT a new Camaro… I NEED a new Camaro.  Have you seen that thing?  It’s a frickin’ revelation.  But most importantly I think we can all agree that I would look super fly rocking less than 20% body fat driving a muscle car.

Yep.  See.  That’s EXACTLY why I need the new Camaro.

Check it:

It's okay to drool.