It all started with a drippy faucet

I've been ignoring the drippy bathtub faucet for years. It's not really that drippy. But according to the Farm Manager, even a modest amount of drippage stains the tub, and how can anyone exist in the modern world with bathtub stains. You can imagine how enthusiastic I'd be to act on such flawed impluses, but unfortunately those impulses never go away, and I found myself last Thursday shopping for a new bathtub faucet. I was mightily impressed with how quickly I resolved the years-long dilema of the drippy faucet. In the space of a couple hours I had a shiny new faucet installed, and no drips! That's where I should have left things. But no. I was pumped. I was filled with can-do overconfidence. Overcome with optomism. That should always be a red flag. While I'd solved the big drip, there were also some very minor ones coming from the taps. Why not tackle them while I'm on a roll. By noon of Friday I'm having a heart to heart with the plumbing expert at Home Hardware. He's never seen the type of tap hardware I brought in to show him first-hand the results of my attempted washer change. He thought I was looking for the county museum! By noon Saturday I've got a brand new Milwakee grinder in hand with a cutting disc on, and I'm chopping up the last 20 ft of galvanized pipe. By now the old bathtub is out the end of the lane with "free scrap" scribbled on the side. It'll be gone in a couple of days. Meanwhile, I'm studying hard whether to go PEX or copper on my new water lines. The FM is busy finding possible bathtubs on the internet. That's a lot of stresss that could have been avoided by leaving well enough alone.