It's around 2 PM on Thursday, but for me the trading week has pretty much come to an end and I stand defeated.
Actually, I lounge defeated. It's really the same thing, just more comfortable and can be sustained for longer periods of time.
As I look back at the week I'm at a loss to explain or to rationalize my continued state of existence. If I don't trade, what am I?
The alternative is frightening and brings back memories of the classic TV character, Maynard G. Krebs," when faced with the possibility of having to do something gainful to support his "footprint."
Bob Denver's character's response to the very possibility of having to work was pretty unrealistic as there was really no evidence that he had ever worked before. Of course I know that sounds like someone's mother using the "how do you know that you don't like liver if you've never tried it," but who knows, Maynard may have liked working.
I like lounging.
Tomorrow will be one of those infrequent days that I will be doing something reasonably constructive and venture more than a few feet from my La-Z-Boy perch. As with most of these days, they were planned a couple of months ago and do contribute to that flickering portion of my ego that still requires self-esteem.
Oh, and they pay well, too.
It's just coincidental that it comes at a week when I've done essentially nothing to advance the argument that I deserve to be perched. Imagine that if your prized talking parakeet stopped talking. I'd probably feed that sucker to our dachshund, Laszlo, who would be so totally self-actualized if only he could get a bird between his jaws.
If I can't do my tricks, what reason is there to keep me going and supplied with a freshly lined cage?I had been hoping to keep doing this even beyond the point that they'll have to start lining my La-Z-Boy.