I was joking with a buddy of mine who also suffers from Sunday night into Monday morning anxiety.
It starts with the stopwatch ticking at the beginning of 60 Minutes and builds into that 2:00 AM walk to take a piss.
On the way back to bed, you make the mistake. You detour over to the computer screen…
… just to take a quick look at the overnight markets.
That is all it takes, you are done. There is no going back to sleep.
We are not the only two Oldboys doing this dance. Most of the guys our age who have been answering opening bells since the Milli Vanilli scandal are up before the Monday dawn, staring into the glow.
Back then there were no bids, no offers and no noise until the bell rang.
We had a 7:20 open and a 2:00 close in the bond room. The grain guys had it even better, 9:30 in the morning to an exhausting 1:15 in the afternoon. Hard work that was measured with time stamps and trading cards.
The pits took a break.
Life took a breath.
Now?
These screens never sleep. They are always hitting bids and always lifting offers… always pulling you back in.
And that’s the thing, Do not trifle in the affairs of dragons.
Because once you step into this world. Once you walk over to that screen at 2:37 in the morning, you are not dabbling anymore.
You are in it, pugna usque ad finem. Fight all the way to the end.
Because this way of life doesn’t allow half measures. It never did. It has structure and it keeps you grounded.
From the trading pits of our youth to the keyboards of our graying days. When we got home from the bars at two in the morning and now we take the geriatric walk to the bathroom to urinate.
The opening bell will always be ingrained into those that heard the call of adrenaline.
Buy low and sell high. Get long in Chicago and sell it in London.
The week has already started in Singapore. Rise and shine and grab the gusto.
Do you know where your brokers are?
