A Morning in the Life of a Position Trader

Notebooks upon notebooks, scraps of roughly torn paper from when I was on vacation, napkins filled with figures scribbled and ideas, printed black and white candle charts pinned to the wall with enough shorthand to confuse any outsider, opened bills stay untouched in envelopes covered with quotes from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York President William C. Dudley, graph paper painted in a three tone graffiti of thoughts which sit atop a pile of proxies I never voted on, unflinchingly inhaling Doritos and coffee which can often be found on top of my real trading notebook while I jot something down on a rapidly aging, empty Netflix sleeve.  A calculator in every room in the house, three personal computers and two laptops within talking distance, a bottle of micro-coated aspirin next to the cellphones next to a file folder full of data on house in Florida that I want sold, and sold now damn it.  My God, it is already 10:00 A.M. in New York, the opening bids may have gotten crushed... open the watch-list, nothing stands out.     

The horrid sounds of CNBC play in the foreground as my pit bull whines to go outside, not realizing I need another moment.  When the main phone rings I don't even bother to turn it on silent, it will cease from distracting me soon enough.  I assume I am lucky to live in a nice quiet neighborhood in Las Vegas, but if a professional wrestling match was going on in my backyard, I wouldn't notice until I snapped out of what I call the haze of possibility.  Filtering noise and receiving signals per our own jaded perception, guided by our preconceived notions.  I know, in a way, I often see what I want see.  I know the research I put into an asset will be perverted by my past experience, present psychological state and future expectations. 

I will always stay in tune with the greater external reality to the very best of my ability and stay as objective.  As the market crashes, I could essentially care less, this fits into my strategy just fine.  Cold calculated, time consuming research followed by the relaxation I find so dear to my heart.  I have no use for a "brilliant" snap call as I did in poker, the market doesn't work like that.  A wise old carpenter once told me, "it takes twenty years to get twenty years experience."   Leave the intuitive trading to the veterans and market makers while leaving the emotional trading to the retail and under-capitalized investors.   Emotion, laziness, impatience, market bias, and poor money management is the enemy.  Through the good days and the bad, I intend to win this fight every year.

Life is but a gift, it is to be enjoyed and embraced.   Have a great weekend.