My gut feeling is that the truck is just old and is going to break down. On top of that, she's frequently abused by rookie drivers in the course of my duties as a trainer. If I had a new(er) truck, the money I'm now spending in repairs would be going into a payment that was bigger and for a longer term. Of course, my guts aren't a way to run a business. The fact remains that, in addition to my guts and the seemingly endless string of repairs, the truck IS profitable. Not only that, it's more lucrative than when I was a company driver and I have greater freedom. When in doubt, always take a look at the bottom line - literally. The problem is not with the truck, but with me. I took the excessive time off and I was cavalier with my finances. I've dug a small hole for myself in the past month, but it's not a coffin nail.
She needs a name; one that would endear her to me as well as others. It would make people root for her. Wilson Pickett died in January last year, the same year I got her. January of this year has been a nightmare. She may not be a Mustang, but the refrain of ride, Sally, ride just seems appropriate as a rally cry.
I'm christening her Sally.