Go Darke

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it

Fundamental Joeyism, Trading

Self pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

DH Lawrence

I’ve been feeling a mite bit sorry for myself the last three weeks. I suppose it could be the the now firmly established zeitgeist starting to erode my, what I once imagined to be rock-solid, bulwarks… but I’ve had a lot of other little frustrations wedging themselves in there and slow burning away at my resolve.

Chief amongst these might be my transitioning from a useful member of society to one that is… well… less useful. Scroll back to the beginning of the year and Joey was part of the entrepreneurship class… while often maligned by society as a ‘real’ vocation, entrepreneurs (deep down inside) know that they are the best (of the best) and that without them, civilisation would crumble and collapse. You may roll your eyes at this intense display of egotism but I think in order to follow this calling you need to believe this. (It doesn’t really matter if it’s true or not)

Of course I also hated it. I mean really hated it! Not initially mind you, I loved building up my business, it gave me a deep sense of purpose, but once it had developed in a mature entity it was just became pure anathema to me. People management is not my strong suit (to put it mildly)… and really, once your business hits a certain mass if feels like all you do is manage people. Every day just drags into the next and everything starts to blurs together. If I was made of sterner stuff I might not have minded… and developed new ways to squeeze joy from life… but I am not, and the resentment just grew and festered. Until all I wanted to do was burn it all down. (Bad relationship management 101)

In any event that chapter of my life is now closed. Or rather it would be, if the pandemic hadn’t potentially scuppered the whole deal I’d put together. That looks like it might eventually be done and dusted this week or next. Lawyers… I pause so as not to curse them, must be the least time efficient denizens on this planet, let’s go with that.

In any event, I had to reinvent myself. Easy peasy… Japaneasy. Pandemics seem like a good time for introspection and finding oneself. Or something along those lines.

So what to do… I’m fortunate, in a way, that I am not salary dependent. Which is more to do with the fact that my wife is highly degreed and is remunerated well for her particular skillset (I married up… WAY up), rather than anything I bring to the table. In any event having a spouse that can support her dead-beat husband while he… mucks about and ‘finds himself’ certainly helps.

I came up this fantastical idea that I was going to be this amazing house husband. Which meant cooking all the meals (I like cooking so this didn’t seem particularly chore-some), shopping for groceries, I would ‘homeschool’ the girls (within reason, they’re 3.5 and 18 months so that should be easy right?) and play lots of playstation. With my remaining hours I would garden, fix stuff in the workshop and trade the markets on a 30 minute chart (which I merrily imagined I’d only have to glance at my computer twice an hour)

Oh… and I would work out every day and ride my MTB every other morning.

Yeah… (to be annunciated in a long drawn out manner)

We’re out of milk. And Coffee… and apparently most critically (according to my significant other) mayonnaise. Which means I need to gird my loins and head out there. And so instead I’m blogging. Ha ha. Which I’ve realised is a form of procrastination for me. (which also explains my vociferous posting for the last two years…) Last month was also our biggest Uber-eats month ever! From which you may be able to deduce how well the cooking every night is going for me. This morning I’ve deposited the 3.5 year old Hurricane with my mother. And I can hear our nanny struggling with the feral 18 month old somewhere in the house. (turns the volume up on his headphones)

Really, the only things I’ve done with any real conviction is play playstation and mess around with my vegetable garden. Not really the win I imagined.

Worst of all, for me at least, is not earning any money. I’ve started to feel quite miserable about it. Half-hearted trading the markets on a 30 minute chart is a recipe for disaster. Initially I did okay, but truthfully, that was probably more momentum from the world markets being really weird and irrational at the moment… and I have since, given most of those gains back.

Also, trading longer time frames isn’t really my thing. Its a different… I don’t want to use the word skillset, but maybe mindset. It’s not one that clicks naturally with me. Struggling in such a noob-istic manner was really getting to me, making me short-tempered and difficult to be around (well… more difficult than usual)

The last two days I’ve really buckled down and gone back to what I’m… reasonably good at, scalping the Cable on a 1-minute chart. I did okay and it was a cheerful grind. But also exhausting. I traded until about midday yesterday and was completely and utterly fried by the end of it. So much so that the rest of my day was pretty much a write off. Which is mind boggling if you consider you’re hunkered down if front of a screen watching little red and green candle sticks move across your screen… and then occasionally using the drawing tools to create a triangle or delineate some area of resistance with a line.

While I must admit that the sense of achievement was quite nice, this doesn’t really click well with all those other things I had pencilled into my game-plan. Trading is a hugely anti-social endeavour.

So I’m back to somewhere near the beginning of my sojourn.

Maybe I’m just not meant to be able to spread myself thin and diversify my time to this degree. Or maybe this is more a function of me just being a whiney, undisciplined malingerer. I don’t know. (or maybe I do know and I just refuse to accept it)

The door bell rings. It’s a massive box of Ferrero Rocher. The card says it’s from one of my wives venture capital clients, thanking her for helping them with something or other. I dutifully sign for the package with their disgusting corona-infested stylus…

… and then take some for myself. Husband tax I muse (to myself).

Chocolate makes things better. Also I bought two Granadilla plants yesterday and some Yarrow which I need to transplant. I should probably do that. And then… groceries. Ergh.

BACK TO FUNDAMENTAL JOEYISM

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