Saturday. A horrible day devoid of positives. For the first time I want to come home.
The fun continues since today is not even close to being over. I have a flight to Auckland tomorrow morning at 05:50. Since I am transferring on to an international flight I need to check it at least an hour early. The desks open at 04:30, so I have just booked a cab for 4 am. I dare not go to sleep so with Super XIV rugby, Woody Allen’s Take The Money And Run on DVD and caffeine pills I will try to stay awake all night and then sleep on the planes.
I did my betty swollocks on the 3rd ODI. I traded throughout the game, working money back and forth.
The first quarter, as it were, went swimmingly but (with the benefit of hindsight) I should not to be deceived. Things broke for me but that was just luck.
The second quarter was frustrating and I wound up back to square one by halftime. Flat, level, even stevens.
The third quarter was abominable. I found a value bet on NZ, watched it go up in smoke whilst being unable to close out and lock in my loss because the market got thin and the Indians raced 3 or 4% ahead of me.
I eventually took an appallingly short price not because it was value but because I was desperate to limit the damage. The fixers swung into action. Wires hummed, certain phones rang and then rang off immediately, the special flag was put out on the West Indian balcony and their super-aggressive start instantly crumbled into dust.
It’s only money. Rather, it’s only lots of money.
The fourth quarter could have been worse. I took more non-smart risk and clawed back a few thousand but it was still carnage.
Now I can handle losing - sounds funny but it is actually a key skill. What gnaws at me is that I know I played this game like a **** when things went wrong, on more than one trade. That’s the real failing – making poor, rushed, risk-stupid decisions with someone else’s money.
Back to winning a bag of sweets on the tour, with two dead rubber games left and limited confidence.
I have never been a hard worker. Even on Thursday when I went off to the library in Christchurch to put my head down and get on with a very good book I only flicked idly through the pages and made cursory notes. This explains why I am a gambler, trying to make something for nothing. No-one succeeds without hard work and I'm not trying hard enough.
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I swam yesterday, feeling guilty for overeating through boredom in the last few days. I felt quite good running this morning, but didn’t beat my previous time by more than ten seconds, which was very disappointing. Either I am getting fatter or my effort on Wednesday made me feel so bad because I was close to my limits, which would explain the lack of improvement. I'm not working hard enough towards these goals either.
Drat drat and double drat.
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I'm only blogging this to motivate myself in the future. Memento mori and all that.
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2 comments:
Sorry to read about the bummer of a day. Out of curiosity, how much is "lots of money"?
A pony (25). From now on though I'm going to be a bit more veiled about my professional activities, if only because it will be massively unpopular when someone in the office finds the blog. That is only a matter of time.
Forgive me whinging. There was a paragraph complaining about the sun disappearing as soon as I got to the park. I may have lost sight of the massive free holiday upside...
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